Child of Bass
by heartsn'minds
Summary: It appears that fate is tired of seeing Serena throw away her happiness and so, its decided that she'll feel the full force of what a correct decision can do for a person. Thus, she becomes pregnant with Chuck Bass's baby. Serena/Chuck. Blair/Nate.
1. Chapter 1

MONTH 1

Serena doesn't understand why Chuck just doesn't leave her when he finds out that she's pregnant with his baby. She expected him to glance down at her with that cold, calculating look he wears whenever he deals with incompetent associates at Bass Industries and she fully expected him to dismiss her when she barged into his office that cool October day. She never expected him to wear something so close to a smile that the hastily built walls around her heart crumbled and she found herself smiling back at him, her blue eyes tentative but her smile a mile wide.

"How far along are you?" His voice is inquisitive, and there is a touch of concern that Serena manages to pick out but she doesn't pay too much heed to the tone of his voice. After all, Serena's never been one to be analytical-that was Blair's job. He's still standing behind that gigantic silver chrome desk of his (he threw out his father's old fashioned, hand carved mahogany oak one the moment he stepped into position), but his hands are balled into fists and tucked into his pockets (not that Serena noticed).

Blue eyes meet mocha ones and Chuck is momentarily stunned by the light he sees within those ocean orbs before they glow even brighter when her smile widens. "Three weeks," she responds, her voice is soft and a little shy (quite unusual for a van der Woodsen, but especially Serena) but there's an excited, ebullient quality that is centerfold, something so Serena that Chuck can't help but always give a little inward smile whenever he hears her talk. Not that he'll ever admit it.

He begins to walk out from behind that silver chrome shield of his and soon the two are standing face to face, Serena is a little wind swept from bargaining into his office and he sees that her untamed golden hair isn't in perfect curls, that her skin isn't an ivory mask, that she doesn't wear carefully applied red lipstick nor does she smell of orchids and rainwater. Striding closer, their eyes never breaking, he takes in the sun kissed skin, the wide, almost doll like ocean blue eyes and the soft pink of her natural lips hue before he detects the scent of cinnamon and warm apples dancing in the air. She smells like warmth and something so close to salvation that he doesn't ever want to let her leave.

"And you're sure it's mine?" He asks, only this time is voice is stony, so far away from his true train of thought but he can't have Serena manipulate him like Blair did. He fell too hard, too fast, too stupidly for the New York debutante queen and he'll be damned if he lets New York's own golden girl play him as well (even though he knows she won't). Maybe it's because the two had an actual friendship established before anything else, or maybe it's because she's the only one he can trust, or maybe it's simply because she's just so bright that he finds himself wanting to know all the plays in the deck before making his move. Whatever the reason, Chuck Bass isn't sure, he wants to make sure Serena van der Woodsen is his, and his alone. Turning down to face her, his eyes grow icy when she fails to produce a response. "Is it?" He now demands, voice condescending and cold. Cruel to the very last beat, just the way the old man raised him to be.

Immediately, he sees the fire in her grow and knows that he'll be burnt if he doesn't move out of the way but Chuck's so tired. He's so tired of being in the cold, being alone, being a human glacier that he just wants to be warm again-and so what if he selects the center of the universe herself to be his sunlight? He can handle it. He's Chuck Bass.

"Your Chuck Bass," Serena states, her voice light but there's an undercurrent of animosity, "girls fall at your feet. We fucked and now I'm pregnant. Of course it's yours."

A pause. Then…

"Your things will be moved into my penthouse immediately and we'll announce this in the papers by the end of this week."

The golden girl's eyes widen in surprise, anger, and an amusement that she doesn't want him to see (he still sees it). "What the hell are you talking about, Bass? Moving in and announcing…? What do you think your doing?" She spits out because she will not be controlled by a man again. Not after cabbage patch, not after Nate (sweet, sweet Nate). She's not going to have someone tell her what to do or how to do it (even if she'll screw everything up when she tries to take care of it herself and ends up crawling back to the same people who tried to help her). "Your not the boss of me, Chuck."

Mocha eyes flash before a smirk is on his lips as he turns around and walks back to his desk. "Announcing the baby will save you from being slandered by the columns and Gossip Girl once she gets her little claws into this," he responds, pivoting around once he was safe behind his fortress again. Leaning down, he pressed his hands on the desk as he bent over, eyes skimming through a few documents when in reality, he just wanted to eye her figure up and down because he's Chuck Bass and he can't help but be a little leery when there's a beautiful woman in the room. "And as for me not being your boss, I do believe that I fund you and all your activities including that rather atrocious tab your ran up while shopping with Blair." He knows that it's a low blow to mention that the van der Woodsen fortune is gone (Lily being scammed out of every penny by the Humphrey's) and that he's her sole source of income now (well, him and a few big modeling agencies that pay Serena a hefty paycheck each week).

Lifting her chin, Serena rolls her eyes at his words (even if they are true) and crosses her arms because she's a van der Woodsen. "Just because we're friends and I'm pregnant with your baby now doesn't make you my boyfriend, got it?" What she actually means is apparent to the both of them: she doesn't want to be 'fixed' to fit anyone's mold anymore. She doesn't want to play the reformed, proper student (Dan), or the innocent, carefree girl (Nate), or even the boozy, hard core partier (Carter). She's all those things she knows, but she's also more. She wants Chuck to know that.

He nods. He has no intentions of fixing her because he's Chuck Bass and he doesn't fix things (at least for now). And the idea of being her 'boyfriend' is utterly ridiculous (even the name itself is far too plebeian). Why would anyone want to take up that silly little position? No, Chuck Bass always aims for the highest positions possible-and he intends to become Serena's husband by the end of her pregnancy by the name of Bass.

* * *

_Hello UES, and boy do I have news for you. It seems that while our sweet S was mourning the loss of her fortune (and the Mrs. S), her knight in shining armor finally came and decided to sweep her off her feet and knock her up while he was at it. You read it correctly dear readers, S is now pregnant with the spawn of C…how will the UES react to this? I know I'm as miffed as anyone else but when you have the Princess of Manhattan and the King of New York procreate, you'll know that NYC will always be as exciting as ever. _

_XOXO,_

_Gossip Girl _


	2. Chapter 2

MONTH 2

Serena doesn't have morning sickness and Chuck's eternally grateful for that. Pressing her warm body closer to his, he inhales the sweet cinnamon scent of her hair and relishes in the warmth of her tanned, golden skin; he doesn't know how this all started but he won't complain. Ever since Lily was left penniless by the low bred Humphrey's and ran off to god knows where, Serena had sought comfort from Chuck through that odd not quite brother sister, not quite friends, not quite fuck buddies relationship they managed to build. Chuck bought Serena a high end apartment (top floor, of course), gave her a generous bank account, and unlimited access to those funds through a shiny silver visa; at first, Serena used him as a friend and human bank account but through some odd twist of fate, things between them quickly escalated.

Those midnight calls to starve away boredom became genuine conversations filled with fun, teasing, (a little bit of lust), and comfort all the while delving into the deepest parts of each others soul. Chuck and Serena spent their days apart and their nights together in either Serena's apartment or Chuck's penthouse; they began to rely on each other in the way only two intimate lovers did and more than once did they have to correct (or not correct) an elderly couple, a shop store owner, a business clerk, an airline hostess, that they were not husband and wife. But eventually, they stopped caring about those little mistakes in name because they began to enjoy it-not that they'd ever tell the other. Would Chuck Bass ever admit that he felt warm and genuinely happy when a smiling associate of his would greet them both with a "hello, Charles, Mrs. Bass," before leading them to his office? No. Would Serena ever tell a soul that she felt elated when a boutique owner would inquire whether "the Mrs. Bass would enjoy the pink gown or the yellow?" by Bass, no.

But these little things, these feelings, manifested themselves into an urging release that the two had acted carelessly (or perhaps not so carelessly) upon one night and consummated under the glass roofing of the Bass penthouse, the stars shining on them as they did so.

"I care about you, Chuck," the blonde had murmured when she believed him to be asleep.

"I care about you, S," the dark haired business tycoon had whispered back the following morning, when he saw she was still fast asleep.

* * *

"God, Chuck, I hate this! Your always hounding me down and I can't even get a goddamn coffee without finding out that one of your goons was freaking stalking me?" An enraged Serena van der Woodsen snapped as the two sat inside the Bass limo, a window put up between themselves and the driver as the blonde shouted her displeasure. "Your becoming a real overprotective dick, Bass."

"Perhaps I wouldn't need to be if you didn't keep a string of horny teenage boys following you around like puppies, S. They'll jump you in a second and slap you the next but of course, you're too blindsided by your own silly little tittering to really pay attention now aren't you?" He spits back, his voice cold and harsh. Devoid of all and any emotion as his icy brown eyes remain fixed on the opposite leather couch across from him because despite the fact that they were arguing like no tomorrow, Serena still sat right next to him. Close enough that he could smell her perfume and feel the warmth from the exposed parts of her skin. He wanted to go back to where those slobbering high school boys had stood and gun each and every one of them down. They were not allowed to look-or even think-of her in that way. She was his and his alone.

Serena, however, didn't catch onto his train of thought because she merely huffed again in indignation. "So what now? I'm your prisoner? If you won't let me out of he penthouse I'll go crazy, Bass."

"You can leave the penthouse anytime you want, Serena."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "I can?"

"Of course. Pack up and go right now if you want."

She frowns. "That's not what I mean Chuck, and you know it."

"Do I?" He asks softly, his voice as steely as it ever was.

A pregnant pause fills the air before Chuck feels a warm hand on his dark gray overcoat and then feels her press her body against his. "All I'm asking is that you stop having people follow me around. It pisses me off and you know it. You also know that's the only reason why I even keep those idiot boys around because I know it makes you mad,"-Chuck chuckles inwardly at that, it didn't just make him mad: it made him furious-"but I wouldn't even have started if you didn't have those guards keeping tabs on me like I'm some sort of prized show dog that you can just parade around everywhere."

"Far from it, Serena. Your a queen," he insists, his voice sudden and biting that she looks a bit stunned before her face melts into a dreamy smile that has Chuck smirking as well.

"And you should know that I'm yours and nobody else's. I don't like fighting with you," she murmurs as she buries her face in his chest, somehow managing to make her way unto his lap as they spoke until the was cradling her body, his own chin resting on her head. Suddenly a wicked smile appears on her face as she faces him, "I'd much rather spend the time we arguing into something productive."

He smirks. "And what would that be, S?"

"Sex." Was her only response before the limousine stopped and Serena slipped from his arms, out the door and into the penthouse with a smirking Chuck Bass following. He was becoming soft around her, he knew that, but he also knew that as long as he had her, he really just couldn't give a damn.

* * *

_Spotted: S and C leaving C's penthouse at the end of Month #2 decked out in Armani and Dolce with a slew of man-slaves carrying suitcases and bags. Seems like our C thinks S needs a change of scenery, after all, the UES wintertide is coming up and although we all know that as much as S enjoys being a live Xmas angel, she'd do much better sunbathing on the beach (boys beware: C has a killer right hook). St. Barts better watch out: your new king and queen will be arriving soon._

_You know you love me,_

_XOXO,_

_Gossip Girl _


	3. Chapter 3

MONTH 3

It seems all good things must come to an end, and that included Serena's lack of morning sickness. Chuck quickly discovered the blonde's new found ailment one morning when he felt her rush from their king sized bed and into the marble bathroom; they'd passed it off as the flu until Serena went to the doctor to bring home news that Chuck was going to have to tolerate a cranky Serena for the next three months. Joy.

"Can't you just take some Tylenol and let it go, S?" Chuck had asked exasperatedly when Serena had complained of a headache while curled up under the cream and dark chocolate covers of their (yes, it's 'their') bed. Dressed in soft shorts and a tank top, with silver trays of food lying about Serena glared up at Chuck while the flat screen TV played 'The Day After Tomorrow'.

"No, I can't just take Tylenol," Serena spat out, "I'm pregnant. It'll harm the baby." She moaned again as a wave of nausea hit her, "I want a muffin."

Chuck raised a brow, "I'll tell Sara to get you one from La Pâtisserie. Chocolate, am I wrong?"

She inwardly cheers that he didn't say non-fat, all organic vegan blueberry because that was the only muffin Blair would ever eat. Serena ate chocolate mousse.

"I'm feeling…banana today. Banana and raisins. With white chocolate."

"…your cravings have already started?"

The blonde smirks, "what, did you think I came with a manuel or something?"

"No. It just says that most pregnant women tend to have cravings in their mid fourth to fifth month of pregnancy. Not third."

"And where did you read that?"

"…"

A burst of laughter escaped Serena's lips causing the color to come back to her face, the tension to fade as she slipped from the covers and made her way to the edge of the bed, dragging Chuck down next to her. Curling up next to him, she flicked at the lapel of his jacket before cuddling closer and kissing his jaw. "I'm just messing with you, King Chuckie," she teases, "I really do want a chocolate mousse muffin."

The dark haired businessman can't even be bothered to remind himself that he'd wasted an extra hour at home languishing Serena because quite honestly, he's never felt happier than seeing her smile. Even if it meant admitting to her that he'd been reading pregnancy books to see just exactly how she would be feeling.

"And Chuck," Serena murmurs against his chest.

"Hm?"

"White chocolate banana raisin muffins are not weird."

"Don't tell me you actually want to eat that."

"I'd like to eat white chocolate off of you."

A pause.

"Did you know that I'm very good friends with Monsieur Pierre at La Pâtisserie?" Chuck smirked, "he'd be more than willing to send a few pounds of white chocolate our way."

"See that it is done," Serena aired, her voice filled with a mock posh accent. Chuck kisses her.

* * *

The next day, two dozen boxes of white chocolate bon bons arrive at the Bass Penthouse.

* * *

The hotel staff then found three large garbage bags as they were doing their daily rounds on Tuesday. Inside were one hundred thousand count Egyptian cotton sheets…all covered with white chocolate.

* * *

_Hello UES, it seems that while our S and C are busy playing house, the original C has decided to come blowing back into town. You all know what this means: our king is going to be challenged for his throne and his S. May the best player win. _

_XOXO, _

_Gossip Girl _


	4. Chapter 4

MONTH 4

Apparently Carter Baizen coming into town wasn't really a cause for too much excitement because he hadn't shown his face around the UES since setting foot at The Empire. Chuck tells himself that the only reason he's even thinking of the worm is because he's wondering how he even managed to get out of prison but the softer side of him, the side that he reveals to Serena more times than he'd like to admit, is secretly worried about the dashing juvenile swooping in and taking his blonde princess away. (He should know by now that Serena is sick and tired of being the princess - that's Blair's job and will always be her position in life).

Serena's in her fourth month of pregnancy now and though she tries to hide it, Chuck can tell she's longing to see her mother again. He silently curses how Lily van der Woodsen chooses now to put those brain cells she's tucked away in the back of her head to actual use and disappear off the face of the earth. Serena warns him to not bother with it - tells him to not look for her because she says, rather boldly,

"I don't need her. She left me with nothing Chuck, if it hadn't been for you I would've…I don't need her. And I don't want to see her because she doesn't deserve to swoop in when she thinks everything's all fine and dandy and that she'll have a grandchild soon. So please," (here she uses those beautiful blue eyes and Chuck nearly gives in. Nearly), "don't look for her." (If Serena hadn't cried herself to sleep for the past three days, Chuck would've complied to her wishes.)

He doesn't mention that he's looking for Lily with as much focus as he is with his stock portfolios; he ropes Blair into helping him as well because if there's anyone who can dig out a person who doesn't want to be found, it's Queen B. However, Chuck mentally growls now as he sits at some damned charity gala, he wants nothing more than to stomp down on the insignificant worm who dared to show his face: Dan Humphrey. Giving a quick glance down at Serena, he sees that she's far too engaged in a conversation with Blair to notice the cabbage patch and he's going to ensure that it remains that way for the rest of the night.

"Nate," Chuck says smoothly as he motions for the glazed eye lacrosse player to come forward, "I do believe they're serving Cuban cigars near the bar. My brand."

Nate's eyebrows furrow. "Cuban cigars? Chuck you know I-"

"They're the finest quality but they were almost _run out_ a few months ago because the suppliers _scammed_ quite a few people in the process of _making_ them." Chuck enunciates perfectly and thanks whatever spirits out there that Nate is actually sober and can think somewhat coherently.

Catching onto Chuck's forced pronunciation, Nate's green eyes skim to the bar before spying Humphrey, causing the warm moss green to steel into a dark emerald. Turning back to the Bass president, he gives a firm nod. "Right, right," the sandy blond nods as he gives Blair a kiss on the cheek, causing the brunette to snap out of her conversation with Serena. "We're just going to head over to the bar. Chuck wants to go cigar sampling."

Blair's fox eyes immediately slide from Nate's face over to the mahogany wooden bar where she spies Dan; quicker than either two men could've predicted, Blair grabs Serena's arm and offers a forced laugh. "C'mon S, I don't want to be around these two when they smell like a burning fireplace. Let's go see if Isabel's nose job is actually as botched as Gossip Girl said it was."

"When does the bitch ever lie?" Serena asks sarcastically as she begins to follow Blair away, unaware of the strange turn of events. Just before the two are out of Chuck's line of sight, he sees a swirl of golden blonde hair and suddenly Serena's right in front of his face again.

"Serena, what-"

"Forgot to give you this," she murmurs quietly and suddenly Chuck finds her warm, apple spice lips upon his own again and quickly snaps out of his stupor. He kisses her fiercely whilst grabbing unto her narrow waist and pulling her in before slowly cupping her cheek, tilting her head back.

"Thank you," he says, his voice taking on a low, lilting quality now as he nips at her neck causing a giggle to escape those soft pink lips. "You better go to Blair though, she looks ready to rip my head off."

The blonde wrinkles her perfect nose and rolls her eyes as she gives a glance back at a steaming Blair. "Eh, she'll get over it." She plants another quick kiss on Chuck's cheek before disappearing into the crowd, though Chuck laughs at her attempts to blend. Anyone with eyes can still spy the tall, beautiful blonde dressed in lavender sashaying to a rather disgruntled Isabel; when he's sure Serena is throughly occupied with Blair's group of cronies, he turns to a slightly confused Nate.

"Chuck, not that I'm doubting another one of your _ingenious _plans," he bites out sarcastically causing the Bass tycoon to smirk, "but shouldn't Serena know that the guy who single handedly stole away her fortune is back in town?"

At those words, the stoic businessman's hand twitches in an attempt to force himself to not storm over to the bar and beat the rag-a-muffin senseless and takes a deep breath. "Nathaniel, you and I both know that Serena has an incessant need to somehow forgive those who don't deserve to be forgiven…in the case of peasants who should be eradicated from existence, she extrapolates on my patience to believe that I would even consider allowing him to live."

Nate blinks at the venom in Chuck's tone of voice as well as the icy, improbable way in which he said it before giving another glance over at Dan. "So what are you going to do?" The golden boy of New York inquired, his voice tinged with curiosity. "Are you just going to hide this all from Serena?" The businessman gives an affirmative nod which only shakes the Archibald heir further. "But, Chuck, she's going to find out eventually! You can't keep something this big hidden in the dark for long."

Mocha eyes lock with moss green ones and even Nate has to suppress an inward shudder of fear as he looks into those dark eyes, the same ones that could promise ruin almost as easily as they could undying love. Giving a cold smile, Chuck raises a glass of scotch towards the Humphrey boy, "oh, believe me, Nathaniel," the dark haired man smirks, "if there was one thing the old man taught me before he began his rotting in hell was how to keep a poker face on - in any and every situation."

* * *

Daniel Humphrey gave a sigh as he continued to hover by his niche near the bar, signaling for the female bartender to keep his glass of whiskey filled. He was beginning to understand why so many males spent their time cooped up with alcohol in their system; giving a glance towards the gilded ballroom and Dan could practically smell the sophisticated and haughty money burning up his nostrils. From his corner he could see a few of his old St. Jude's classmates (not that they'd ever acknowledge him as such) but he dared not approach them; he knew from the moment Serena van der Woodsen had gone into Chuck Bass's arms that his name would be slandered beyond salvation. Giving a sneer at the girl he once thought he'd loved, Dan couldn't help but allow an outward showing of disgust; that spoiled little society girl with her blonde locks and ocean blue eyes thinks that just because she's a van der Woodsen she can play his heart for fun? A streak of malicious triumph filled the Humphrey boy's system as he imagined the devastation the two van der bitches must have felt when they realized that his father, his 'poor', 'stupid', lower class father had stolen away every penny of the grand van der Woodsen fortune.

Dan hadn't wanted it to be that way (not really), the dark haired boy shook his head mournfully, he'd wanted to marry Serena, have the two build up a life together and have children. He'd wanted her to take his name because he knew he was good for her; he could be the rational, calm, and mysterious writer husband while she was the devoted blonde housewife. And once a decade passed and he figured Serena was beginning to lose her looks, he could easily have a few mistresses around and she would never know for despite her normal intelligence, Serena wasn't bright and Dan was all the more willing to play on it. A sneer crossed his lips as he remembered how the stupid whore had rejected his proposal! His! The man who had reformed her and saved her from a life of bored opulence and selfishness! He was all the more willing to carry and execute his father's plan and take all the van der Woodsen harem girl's were worth; as his faded brown eyes peered along the room again, he made out the form of Nate Archibald, tanned, strikingly handsome, and enjoying a conversation with none other than Charles Bartholomew Bass.

_Fucking dick_, Dan thought bitterly as he downed another glass of whiskey, _inherited daddy's empire and now runs around trying to be a businessman, ha! Dumb airhead probably doesn't even know what a stock is,_ Dan figured smugly as slammed the glass down. Just as he was about to approach the Bass head, he saw a flurry of violet chiffon and golden hair and his eyes widened: for, around Chuck Bass was Serena van der Woodsen and she had just kissed him. Full on the mouth. Dan began to march over to where the van der Woodsen and Bass stood intertwined as one with only a single thought running through his head: _what the fucking hell?_

* * *

**Author's Note: Or, rather, Author's Question: should Chuck and Serena's child be a boy or a girl?**

**Up next: Chuck and Serena find out the gender of the baby; Dan interferes; Carter is thrown in and his mystery girlfriend is acknowledged! Will also feature Blair and Nate more. **


	5. Chapter 5

MONTH 4 CONT.

"This party is just getting…boring," Blair sniffed out as she glanced at the slew of people mingling about the ballroom, her foxy brown eyes glazed over with annoyance. "I thought this was supposed to be a soiree not a…"

"B! Thank god, I found you!" A frantic Serena called as she rushed up to the brunette's side, tearing her away from an envious Kati, "I think I may have dropped my phone into the toilet," she said as she dug into her clutch but was unable to produce the gold cased iPhone that Chuck had given to her a few days prior. "And I know Chuck's going to _freak_ when he gets wind of the fact that I lost _another_ phone but-"

"S, calm down," Blair instructed with that same razor sharp voice that used to (still does) scare the very living daylights out an incompetent worker bee, and one she does not hesitate to use in any given situation. Grasping Serena's golden clutch into her manicured hands, Blair gave the blonde goddess and once over before rolling her eyes, "how much juice did you drink? I can spot a sugar high a mile away, Serena."

The blonde blushed before tapping a long, slender finger to her lip, "I don't know…five, maybe? They had those little red cherries in them but they were all at the _bottom_ of the glass so I had to keep drinking the entire thing to eat the cherry at the end."

"S."

"Yeah, B?"

"I think you're really tired and that sugar high is probably the only thing keeping you going right now," the former queen bee said, struggling to keep herself from laughing at the golden blonde's antics. She knew perfectly well that if Serena was actually thinking straight (and probably not so bored (like they all were) and suffering from an intense sugar high), she'd have seduced a waiter to get her an entire jarful of maraschino cherries. "Come on, let's see if Nate and Chuck have finished cigar sampling now," grasping the blonde's elbow, Blair managed to tow the bouncy blue eyed debutante threw a parade of slightly drunk Upper East Siders, but she still couldn't detect sandy blonde hair nor icy mocha eyes anywhere.

She lurched forward slightly when Serena managed to untangle her elbow from Blair's grip and grasp another sparkling apple juice cocktail, "wait a sec, B, I just need to-"

"Oh, no," the full lipped brunette insisted, grasping the flute away from the blonde's hands, "you are not drinking another one of these, do you hear me Se-"

The blonde pouted, "c'mon, B, what else am I supposed to do? I can't drink, the party's boring, Chuck's being all Chuck-"

"So you're going to drown yourself in _liquified sugar_?!" Blair screeched as she eyed glass she was holding with distaste, before holding out an arm to keep Serena away. Deep down she knew that Serena's constant indulgences would do nothing for her figure (something Blair was internally jealous of) but she could at least _pretend_ Serena was human and not a goddess for one night, right? Stepping a few feet from the blonde, Blair eyed a cocktail waiter only a few feet away and began to edge towards the mustached, penguin clad server.

The UES golden girl, however, seemed to have other plans. With the expertise of a ballerina (and one sincerely bored out of her mind), Serena managed to clasp Blair's wrist and lunge forward, "B, just let me have the cherry at the bottom-"

"Not a chance in hell, Serena! This thing was probably made by _blue collar_ workers who don't even work with properly imported Les Bon hand sanitizer," Serena opened her mouth to inform Blair that juice factories probably couldn't afford pricey French scented hand soaps but the brunette was off on a tangent now, "and there are probably numerous other things they could've dropped in like an old ladies hair net or some man's dentures-"

"B, are we talking about a juice factory here or an elderly person's home?"

The Queen Bee rolled her eyes, "doesn't matter, S, the point is that if the ingredients aren't in French and you can't taste the ancient smokiness-"

"You mean super stale-"

"-exquisite taste then you-"

"Blair, what are you doing?" The slightly confused, absolutely endearing voice of Nate Archibald inquired as he stared down at his immaculately dressed girlfriend, one arm outstretched to keep a pouting blonde at bay and the other dangling a glass of sparkling apple juice in the other. It was certainly a sight to behold and Nate was soaking up every minute of the oddity, mirth dancing in his moss green eyes. "Chuck went to order a few dozen of those cigars and I just decided to jump ship and see the two most beautiful ladies in all of the UES." He gave Blair a kiss on the cheek as he said so, allowing Serena to snag the flute away from the brunette's hand and twirl unto the midst of the dance floor.

Rolling her eyes, Blair gave a nod towards the blonde who was now eagerly drinking up the concoction. "She's on a major sugar high here, Natie, probably worse than when we were kids because she can't even touch a drop of alcohol," leaning in closer to the lacrosse player's ear, Blair's perfectly plucked eyebrows formed a frown as she scanned the crowd of a certain cabbage patch. "And did you and Chuck get rid of Brooklyn yet? I can't keep Serena by the east bay much longer considering that that's the bar that's serving all those stupid juice drinks."

The tan skinned athlete merely jerked his chin by the scotch serving west bar, "Chuck's…well, I don't really know what's going on there but we Chuck doesn't want Serena to even know Dan's in town. He's got it in his head that he wants to wipe him from the face of the earth and that Serena shouldn't ever know because, well…"

"She'd forgive him in a heartbeat," Blair finished, nodding her head at Chuck's logic. "Chuck's a lot of things but stupid isn't one of them." Turning, she gave a glance at the ebullient UES princess and shook her head, "it's wrong to do it, but it's what's best. If it were up to Serena, we wouldn't even have a death penalty in this country - and there's no way in hell Dan Humphrey is getting off so easy."

Nate frowned, "but don't you think Serena can take care of it herself? I mean, this guy did destroy her entire family practically and I doubt even S is going to allow-"

"Trust me Natie," Blair said as she gave a breathtaking kiss to her boyfriend, leaving him slightly stunned and without argument, "destroying Dan Humphrey is a game that's long overdue to be dusted off and played."

* * *

Whirling about the glittering golden ballroom, Serena honestly couldn't help but feel that for once in her life, everything might just be…okay. Of course there were kinks with her and Chuck (and not the ones that Chuck enjoyed in the bedroom) but they were things that were so couple-y and expected that the blonde couldn't help but inwardly chuckle every time she and the Bass head argued over where to go out for dinner or if Chuck was working too late. She'd never admit it, but it felt nice to be needed and Chuck would breath a word aloud that he'd never felt so accepted around Serena, to have another person genuinely care about him the way she did. Shaking her head from those thoughts, Serena continued to lazily swirl about the ballroom, long having left Blair and Nate to their make out session and was in turn, looking for her own prince to kiss.

"Dancing the night away, Cinderella?" A deep, rich baritone inquired into Serena's ear, his hand wrapping about her waist, preventing her from spinning away and the warmth of his arms and body radiated with a familiarity Serena knew instinctively.

Turning around, Serena gave a deep kiss to the Bass businessman before her, allowing him to slip his tongue in her sweet mouth before her own tongue began the ever-changing dance of dominance. She giggled with he dipped her slightly, causing her arms to grip his neck and shoulders tighter, as she straightened when he began to nip at her jawline and neck, another bubble of laughter escaping her lips.

"If you make me smell like some South American cigar after this, there'll be hell to pay, Bass."

A chuckle was his response as he continue to strew kisses about her as his hands roamed her lithe body, "what kind of father-to-be do you think I am?" He inquired, his right hand gently resting on Serena's flat stomach, "my child will only inhale the smoke of a genuine Cuban cigar - nothing less." He said, his voice coated in a mock seriousness that had the blonde before him swatting away his hands in playfulness.

"Oh please Chuck, if he's anything like you then we both know you're going to have to change the combination to your liquor cabinet."

Chuck smirked, "not a chance in hell, blondie," he murmured as he continued to press the lithe golden girl closer to himself.

Serena pouted, "why not?" She demanded, trying to look more stern but failed when he pressed a kiss right to her collarbone, eliciting a giggle from her perfectly glossed lips.

Leaning over, she tried to maneuver from his arms but warm mocha eyes met her own sparkling blue instead, mirth shining in them. "Because we both know that's your way of trying to get me to relinquish my hold of one the most priceless," Chuck exaggerated in mock formalness while the vision before him merely rolled her eyes, "wine collections in the east coast-"

"Chuck you talk like a boring old man." Serena cut in, knowing full well just what the business tycoon would do as soon as those worlds left her lips.

His eyes gleamed with challenge at Serena's correct deduction. "And I suppose an _old man_ could've easily gone all four rounds last night…and the night before…and-" Chuck's hand slipped from her back right down to her perfectly shaped ass before giving it a squeeze, pulling her in closer to him as a soft gasp escaped her lips as his other hand easily began to reach for her zipper, "make you scream loud enough for even the _doorman_ to hear."

"Chuck, stop!" Serena said heatedly as her own eyes became hazy with want, she knew the were both still in the middle of the ballroom and if she didn't do something, her dress would be off in a matter of seconds. "There's people watching," she tried again as Chuck's hand refused to stop lowering.

"Always did want to try something kinky," the Bass head snickered as he saw Serena's blue eyes light with affection and annoyance.

"You are so-"

"Serena?"

The blonde slowly whirled around, Chuck's arm still wrapped tightly around her waist as she came to face the voice that addressed her. The dark haired capitalist's eyes merely narrowed into unreadable slits as he glared at the person before them as if they were less than dirt. Confusion was the only emotion evident in the van der Woodsen's voice as her own blue eyes sparkled with the beginnings of distaste-

"Carter?"

* * *

"Get out of this room _now_," Chuck Bass hissed to the original party boy as he kept his grip tight about his pregnant girlfriend, who was still in shock. Sneering down at the reckless playboy, Chuck merely gave a cold smirk, "after all, wasn't that ticket I gave you a one way ticket? I'm sure that whatever labor camp you're in needs all the filth it can gather to dig those trenches in…Tanzania, was it?" After seeing the tightening of Carter's lips, the Bass executive mocking grin, "but I suppose that even a low bred illiterate could see you as the pathetic worm you are - foolish of me to believe you'd ever be thought of as anything more by anyone - even the incompetent fields man."

The newly instated Baizen heir glared with an coolness icy enough to freeze a falling star but it had little affect on the ruthless businessman before him.

"Carter what are you doing back?" A softer voice cut in, though not quite laced with as much venom as her other half's, Serena van der Woodsen's voice was far from being the tranquil lull he had known it to be so long ago.

Giving a longing stare back at the blonde haired beauty, the dark haired rake merely gave a weak smile. "Good to see you Serena," he tried, soaking in the radiance of the goddess before him.

She (and the statue of a man beside her) seemed to have little patience for the pregnant blonde merely raised a brow. "There's no one here to scam, Carter," she snapped, gesturing around the ballroom. "Everyone here knows who you are and even if they don't, I'm pretty sure they can smell the ten different women hanging off your shirt."

"I need to talk to you-"

"You won't be talking to _anyone_-" was the icy cut in he got from Chuck but he could tell that his weak demeanor was starting to arouse Serena's soft side.

"Serena, please," he tried again, willingly reducing himself to a cowardly beggar if it meant he could be alone with her for a few moments before _she_ arrived. "I need to tell you something before anything else happens."

This irritated the fair haired Venus, "and what you can say you can say in front of Chuck," she threw in, her own eyes narrowing as Chuck placed a protective hand atop Serena's stomach - asserting his dominance over the scene.

A nervous frown suddenly appeared on the usually cool and collected Carter Baizen but before he had a chance to open his mouth, a vibration of his phone was enough to cause him to cast a longing glance at Serena before eyeing the west doorway with contempt and…shame?

"I have to go, Serena but if you'll meet me in front of Sabarsky tomorrow at around noon then-"

"She won't be meeting you anywhere, Baizen because as far as I'm concerned," Chuck hissed, his eyes dark with an undelivered promise, "you have minimal authority here. And most likely, you'll have even less than the scraps you possess when I have you on a plane with a permanent ticket to Chad."

Just as Chuck was about to grasp Serena's elbow, the blonde turned, eyeing the dejected womanizer one last time. "I'm giving you one chance, Carter,"

"Serena-" the Bass dealer began but was silenced when the blonde easily cut him off.

"And you'd do well to not waste it." The ending of her sentence was done in such a Bass-like fashion that the immaculately dressed tycoon couldn't help but be impressed, a faint smirk upon his lips as he saw the weakling nod quickly before vanish into the sea of socialites.

Turning to face Serena (and guide her to the doorway) he allowed the growing smile to emerge on his face. "When did you learn to do ambiguous threats, van der Woodsen?" He asked teasingly, "wasn't it always me and Queen B who had to handle the underhanded dealings while you were ah, occupied with the bathroom and last night's liquor?"

The blonde playfully slapped Chuck on the shoulder, an easy smile appearing on her flawless face. "Guess I picked up _some_ of your unfortunate Bass traits-"

"I think you mean phenomenal-"

"Don't get ahead of yourself, King Chuckie or I'll terrify you to death with my cravings again."

"…I'll make a Bass out of yet."

His only respond was her light hearted laughter; unbeknownst to them however, a pair of dark eyes lingered on the smiling blonde and arrogant corporate man but the er, burly _associates_ that Chuck had kindly dislodged from Bass Security Detail had prevented him from so much as moving a muscle - except from going south and heading towards the door. Dan Humphrey's entire countenance colored in annoyance as he found he couldn't spy Carter Baizen anywhere, and by the time his useless sweep had finished, the vivid orchid gown and dapper black suit with the velvet bow tie had gone.

"Damn it," the dark haired former author hissed under his breath as he slammed down another glass of whiskey. "Fucking Bass-"

"You know boy, I was the champion thrower back at West Point before I went to Iraq," the dark skinned black suit clad agent called out randomly, his sunglasses obscuring his eyes.

"Don't say, Joe," the other guard responded, his brown hair slicked back while an ear communicator was visible to Dan from his seat in between the two _chaperons _(as Chuck had humorously called them), "I was named best shot in Afghanistan. And so was my father. And my grandfather. Who fought as a decorated hero in WWII and killed about fifty Nazis."

"Really, Ryan?"

"Oh, yes. We Johnson's are trained to _respect_ one's superior and _eliminate _those who do not."

"Wise code."

"Indeed."

Dan Humphrey left three point two minutes afterward, but not without a mental note to visit his dear brother-in-law, Carter.

* * *

"Wake up, Miss Serena!" Luna-Belle, the permanent Bass housekeeper, announced cheerfully as she threw open the heavy satin blinds to the Master Suite.

The golden blonde merely turned onto her stomach, grasped her pillow and threw it over her head, all the while muttering a "gimme five more minutes, Luna…" and promptly nodding off.

A chuckle left the red haired Irish cleaner as she clucked her tongue, placing a glass of seltzer water with lemon on the nightstand before moving to get out Serena's robe. "But you must, Miss Serena. Mr. Chuck has already gone to eat breakfast and you two have appointment today to check on baby!"

"Tell Chuck to reschedule - we both know his mistress is his phone, Luna-Belle."

"Actually I prefer to any woman I sleep with to be tanned, blonde, and just a bit of a bed hog," came a clear, deep, blue blooded male voice. Immediately, the redhead dropped into a small curtsey while the blonde behind her merely rolled over, the pillow still atop her face as she did so. She heard him chuckle before walking closer (Luna-Belle had already begun to edge out of the room), "exhausted?" He taunted, the teasing lilt never disappearing from his voice.

"You screwed me on the piano," was Serena's response, "and you don't even _play_ the piano!"

"Oh, I think I played both you and the piano very nicely last night-"

"I have imprints the size of music keys on my ass!" Was her only reply which merely elicited another chuckle from the Bass head, only this time it was slightly louder and bordered on a genuine laugh of amusement. Throwing the pillow off her face, Serena couldn't wipe away her smile of triumph of getting him to actually laugh; sitting up in bed, she allowed the sheets around her body (Luna-Belle was gone by this point) to fall down unto the bed. "You really should consider yourself lucky that I actually want to get out of bed today - on another given morning, you'd never get me out of it, Bass."

The brunette raised a brow, "is that a challenge I hear, princess?"

"Nope, just stating facts!" Standing up, the blue eyed vixen turned to walk towards her closet, hands running through her golden mane as Chuck followed behind, his fingertips ghosting over her skin causing her to wince with anticipation. "Don't even think about it, Bass," she warned, doing her very best to sound firm as she threw a pair of jeans and a light, oversized white sweater onto the bed, "I don't want to miss this appoint-mmh!" Her sentence wasn't even halfway out of her mouth before his lips pressed against hers and she couldn't help but smile, her eyes sparkling with love.

There was something about these mornings - where he was teasing and playful - and where they didn't have sex but that was _okay_ because these little conversations, these playful little talks of nothingness meant more to the both of them than most anything. Perhaps it was naive to hope that everything could last like this, Serena thought mentally as another slip of laughter escaped her lips at something Chuck said, but her heart clung unto the belief that if you just willed yourself into something strong enough, then perhaps it would stay. And perhaps it was because of paranoia, or because she'd really been spending too much time with Chuck - they did live/sleep/eat/ec. together 24/7 - but there was an odd sinking feeling that something else was shifting out of place.

* * *

_Hey there UES, I've been gone for a few days but now I'm back with news as talk worthy as it always is. It seems that our Queen S and King C just can't seem to keep things secret for long and who would want that anyway? It seems only fitting that I announce the arrival of the new UES prince because King C is finally getting an heir. Cheers to the happy couple! And much luck - you'll need it because guess who I spy with my little eye has come back to town? Looks like Little J isn't so little anymore and it seems that along with her new do and attitude, she's acquired a very fine piece of man candy: has the original C missed our Queen S so much he's gone to the knockoffs? _

_ This is a reunion that no one's going to want to miss, and I'll be there documenting every moment of it for you. _

_XOXO,_

_Gossip Girl_

* * *

**Author's Note: ooh, seems things are heating up! Sorry for the delayed chapter but I kept putting this off because of procrastination...typical...hehe **

**For those of you who wanted to see Chuck and Serena's reaction to the baby, don't worry - it'll be done next chapter in a bit of a flashback mode (you'll see why when I post up the next chapter!) I also hope that my portrayal of Blair was on the money, she's such a calculating little bitch that I love and I want to make sure I get our Queen B right! **

**Next chapter: we'll get to see Carter's girlfriend/wife, will definitely feature Dan more, we'll be having some intense flashback scenes, and Chuck's plan will be put in motion! We'll also having some more Blair/Nate in there for some fluff and cuteness! **

**Send me a review to tell me what you think! (Seriously, review box is right there :)) **

**x,**

**Gina**


	6. Chapter 6

MONTH 5

Jennifer Humphrey Baizen sat perched as prettily as ever on the hand carved mahogany armrest of the grandiose red silk cathedra, her surgically plumped lips in a pout as she peeked at herself from a hand held mirror. The Baizen penthouse was completely airy, the huge windows open to the crisp October air as a full, lemon yellow sun shone in a nearly cloudless corn blue sky. Peering out the window, she made sure that no debris would float to the thirty first floor of the building before smoothing out her green silk gown again, eyes flashing towards the ornate silver gilded clock on the cream colored wall.

He was late.

Again.

Heaving a sigh, the Mrs. Baizen snapped her fingers as a plump, English maid quickly scurried her way into the living room, keeping her head down.

"Yes, Mrs. Baizen?"

Jenny waved a hand of dissatisfaction, inwardly cursing Carter for his lackadaisical tendencies as she sincerely prayed that they wouldn't be tardy to their own gathering. "Get me a glass of Moet, Claudia along with some tea cookies - the ones imported here from Surrey, would you? Carter's late as usual and I need something to occupy my time."

The maid quickly curtseyed again before quickly walking to the kitchen, inwardly grimacing at her mistress's confession. Although Jenny Humphrey Baizen did everything under the sun to mimic the mannerisms of a natural born UES resident, there were things that she lacked that were so blatantly obvious that one couldn't help but cringe at her antics. The very basics were the very things she did not possess - tact, couch, and practiced grace - there were items that were second nature to a true UES elite, things that were ingrained in them since birth. Taught by their mother's (tutors') knee and later reinforced by their father at dull charity galas and important polo matches; they were the vessels for underhanded economic dealings and political nettings, the portly English maid mentally noted as she pulled out a frosted wine glass. Nearly everything - from the decor to the utensils - had been hand selected by a deluded Mrs. Baizen who's glee at finally being allowed to negate a price tag had caused her to buy the most outlandish and ostentatious items at Barney's.

If there was one thing that a maid hated more than an incompetent or new money mistress, it was a new money mistress who thought she was old money. That just about infuriated every man or woman in the service industry; pulling open the liquor cabinet and selecting a relatively aged bottle of Moet wine, Claudia uncorked it with ease as he poured the dark, red velvet liquid into the glass. From within the sanctity of the kitchen, she could hear the platinum blonde walking about the wood paneled floors with impatience, huffing to herself and completely ignoring the fact that the help had ears as well.

Though Claudia would never openly admit it, she was somewhat thankful for her irritating mistress's constant bouts of speech - it starved away boredom, so that was a perk. Walking back into the room, Claudia willed her eyes to stay on the ground, willed herself not to look at the Mrs. Baizen's clownish hair and attire and prayed to just about every god she knew of that the Mr. Baizen would take pity upon the residents in the building and escort his wife away. The silver tray in which she carried the wine glass in was heavy enough for the red haired maid to focus her attentions on but that didn't stop the overdone wife of Carter Baizen from addressing her (another faux pas in high society - a good maid was looked at but not seen, never spoken to):

"Can you believe it? That jackass actually had the nerve to tell me that we might be a little late - honestly! I sometimes can't even believe I married him, me!" By this point in her life, Jenny Humphrey had completely forgotten she was a low bred girl of Brooklyn and started believing in the fantasy her brother and she created. Turning on her heel, the pale faced blonde grasped the wine glass in a fluid motion, allowing Claudia to catch a glimpse of the dark red platform heels that completely clashed with the overly shiny material of her lime green satin gown. Had the color been a tasteful dark or muted olive tone, had her hair been cut in a more conservative edge, and had she not used a grandiose shovel to apply her makeup, then the petite platinum blonde would have been rather lovely to look upon.

Except, Claudia sighed inwardly, the new mistress of the house of Baizen seemed to have picked up styling tips from Kati and Isabel.

_Poor lass_, the Irish maid intoned inside her head as Jenny continued to pound around the penthouse, completely ignorant of the fact that her heels would no doubt lead scuff marks on the polished oak floor, _she doesn't know the first thing about society class and here she is planning a debut ball…she should know those things are for eighteen year olds not - _

"Claudia, do you think now is the right time to have a baby?" The abrupt question snapped the portly housekeeper from her train of thought as her brown eyes snapped up to her mistress.

"Er…pardon me, madame?" Claudia managed to squeak out, her mind running completely blank. _They do not teach you this at the seminars, by great god!_

Jenny's own dark eyes narrowed at the older woman's in cohesive response, "I said: do you think now is the right time to have a baby?"

"Uh…if the madame thinks it's-"

"No, no, no!" Jenny snapped, crossing her arms as the wine slopped inside the glass, threatening to spill over. "I mean, I know I'm young and, you know," she waved a dismissive hand in a attempt at being what Claudia believed, to be modest, "but there comes a time in every woman's life when she needs to check her…you know, date." Raising an over plucked brow, the pale faced lady of the house gestured around, "I've been thinking that Carter doesn't really think of this place as home and what better way to make a man feel at home than by having a baby?"

_Wrong again, lass! You don't make a man want to come home by having a baby, gee whiz…you make a man want to come home by acting half-way decent and not send everyone you meet running for the hills!_

"Of course, I understand, madame."

"Wonderful." Giving a quick glance at the clock, the Mrs. Baizen sucked in an aggravated breath, "tell Carter not to bother showing up here, Claudia. Just tell him to meet me at the party, all right? And make sure he doesn't smell like a drunkard, god knows the last time he did that he nearly passed out _on the waiter_."

_No! No, no, no! You don't show up to any event without a man on your arm!_ Claudia mentally screamed, _even if it means showing up late or not arriving at all, you never attend a high class gathering solo! By Ireland's plains…_

"Of course, madame." With those words, the older woman scurried into the coat closet, grabbing Jenny's favorite dark brown mink (even though it went as well with green and electric red as mud did with white lace) before returning with a practiced smile on her face. Holding out the offending fur, she allowed Jenny to slip in her liposuctioned arms into the softness before dashing in front and clasping up the ancient oval buttons, pretending to admire her handiwork. "Why, you'll be the belle of the ball tonight, madame! Just lookin' at you…"

Jenny gave a faux smile of gravitate before grasping her black leather purse from the small side table kept near the entrance of the house, "remember - tell Carter to meet me at the party. And in a suit, for goodness sakes." She fluttered her hands about in what Claudia guessed was supposed to be 'feminine distress' but it only served to remind the ruddy cheeked maid of two ailing pigeons falling from the Manhattan sky.

As soon as the door was closed and the Mrs. Baizen was gone, the red haired Irish woman allowed a breath of relief to escape her mouth.

"Thank all the Irish roses…" the short woman muttered under her breath as she began to make her way towards Mr. Baizen's office, "she's finally gone."

* * *

Chuck Bass was a man of many means - he controlled a company that was profiting exponentially with each passing day, his side businesses were growing in size and stature, and he had numerous politicians in his silk lined pocket. If there was any doubt that he had not already sniffed out Daniel Humphrey's dirty secrets, it was put to rest the moment any said stranger took a look upon his desk. Scattered across the heavy mahogany oak table (the one he kept in his office at home, not at Bass Industries) were numerous files and transcripts, all pertaining data about one Brooklyn born offender that the wealthy billionaire just couldn't wait to wash his hands clean of. It wasn't difficult to track down the boy's exploits - he'd made that so easy with his frivolous spending and causal hook ups with high end prostitutes (they all ended up pregnant, somehow). His globe trotting and funding for his father's pathetic restaurant in England which was doing surprisingly well (but what can one expect? Even rats must eat somewhere). The vast Van der Woodsen fortune was being squandered on pursuits so shameful that any true blue blood would cry in shame and agony but Chuck Bass would simply take it and use it as fuel for the destruction of said person.

Operation Alexander (otherwise known as getting back the Van der Woodsen fortune and destroying Dan Humphrey) had been put into motion by Chuck and Blair just a week after the Charity Gala. Serena had gone to meet with that atrocious Carter Baizen, which Chuck had only allowed because it gave him two hours of uninterrupted plotting time with Blair (though two bodyguards did tail the blonde beauty).

The moment Blair had walked into his home office, she had been dressed to do business: high heeled Prada booties, black lace leggings, a skin tight pencil skirt and perfectly tailored baby blue blazer with sharpened nails painted in a blood red lacquer. Blair Waldorf was ready for the kill.

"Might I inquire of the surprises the shrew has, now that we're actually working on the same purpose?" Chuck had teased as soon as the brunette had stomped it, intent on finishing business she considered long overdue (and in many ways, it was).

The doe eyed Queen Bee merely scoffed as she threw her Chanel coat onto an antique chair lying by the fireplace before sauntering over to his grandiose desk. "What do you have so far, Bass? I need foundations to work with."

"Well, if you'd care to actually use your finely paid for education to read the documents I've compiled, then you'd understand what you're working with." He'd replied, a dry, sarcastic drawl in his voice as the prim Waldorf heiress skimmed through cream colored documents.

"Faster if you tell me, oh brilliant Bass." Was her only retort; combined with her tapping foot and sharp, succinct sentences, Chuck had easily fallen into business mode and the plan was set.

Although Rufus Humphrey had been legally married to Lily van der Woodsen during the time of the escapade, she had a prenup created by a lawyer named Edward Harris as well as quite a few legal papers from her ex-husband, William van der Woodsen. In an effort to keep his wife from re-marrying without his consent (AKA, Rufus Humphrey), he had created several legal orders that required said spouse-to-be to match the fortune that Lily had as well as being able to fully support her solely on his own commission. However, in Lily's lust/love/whatever-pheromone-fueled-phase, she had overridden that contract but the details of it all wouldn't be accessible to Chuck for another three weeks. The fact of it was, there was something suspicious about how cleanly everything had handled - it wasn't as if Chuck was purposely condescend upon his girlfriend's mother, but the fact of it was, Lily van der Woodsen just didn't do organization.

From the moment she walked into a room to the second she stepped out, there would be a trail following her. And while the elder van der Woodsen woman may not pertain to stupidity, she certainly didn't know her way around the law. Combine that with her constant mood swings and denial in the months leading up to marrying Rufus Humphrey, Chuck doubted she had the good sense to hire a phalanx of lawyers to do battle for her. He knew without a drop of uncertainty that something had gone amiss in whatever secret legal battle was done behind closed doors (he had done enough of those to last him a lifetime) and the only witness he could think of was Eric van der Woodsen, who was probably halfway to China by now.

As if that wasn't aggravating enough, the Bass tycoon sneered, Daniel Humphrey seemed to have grown some brain cells since becoming a criminal millionaire; he'd hired a team of seemingly airtight lawyers to back him up in cases the would've required legal judging. His DUI in Sydney for instance, or his solicitation of an underage prostitute in California…his record was beginning to grown and the eagle eyed businessman knew that if he could scrape out one detail that showed he was misusing his presence to override law, then a court case would be given. A few moves here and there, some exposure done and Daniel Humphrey would be sentenced to prison and his fortune could easily be persuaded by Chuck through numerous means (bribing) to be given to his lovely step-sister, Serena van der Woodsen.

It was a fool proof plan, really…they just needed the details.

Underestimate a Waldorf and you get burned.

Underestimate a Bass and you don't live to see what happens to you next.

* * *

_Serena had been clutching unto Chuck's hand as if it were a life line, she was beyond terrified of some random guy sticking camera into her parts, but the fact that the guy was actually allowed to do this bothered her even more. _

_ "Nervous, S?" A rich baritone voice inquired as he smirked down at just how tightly his girlfriend's grip on his hand was. _

_ The blonde shot him a glare, her blue eyes filed with warning. "Keep your mouth shut, Bass. Just be glad I'm not making you sleep on the couch for this." _

_ "Me? What did I do?" He asked with mock innocence, the sly grin on his lips growing at the blue eyed beauty's exasperation. _

_ The already crushing grip she had on his hand grew, "you knocked me up! Planted the bun in my oven! Stuck a wa-wa in my va-jay-jay! Put a-mmh!"_

_ The Bass head's mouth was warm and familiar to Serena's own soft lips, the way his tongue caressed the cupid's bow of her lips before nipping playfully at her mouth usually caused all of the blonde's thoughts to momentarily be put on pause. The way he held her, so close that not even a credit card could fit in between them caused a small giggle to escape her lips - she loved Chuck when he was like this. Playful and protective, all man without trying too hard…just - _

_ "Bass? Mr. and Mrs. Bass?" A bored nurse's voice called out as Chuck easily grasped onto Serena's ass, lifting her from his lap and gently setting her down before addressing the aged, silvery haired woman with a nod. Without so much as blinking, the old crone merely waved a hand over, "Dr. Neil will be seeing you now in room D-43-" _

_ "Wait, why do they get to use room D-43?" A plump, dark haired woman demanded as she rose from the luxuriously cushioned seats of the Hospital of Columbia and Cornell. Surrounded around her were six children and a husband who was cradling a new born, the bags under his eyes as dark as his own hair. "That's the biggest room at the hospital, shouldn't we get the room? I mean, look at us here, really, we-" _

_ "Anyway, Mr. and Mrs. Bass," the nurse continued, eyes unblinking at the woman's protest before continuing to lead the resident prince and princess of New York down to the screening room. Chuck merely smirked that trademark Bass smirk while Serena offered an apologetic smile. _

_ "Humph. Rich little Manhattan hoppers…she thinks she's so good looking because she's young…wait 'till you're forty, princess." The woman muttered darkly before returning to her six children, four of which were beginning to cry due to their mother's heated speech. _

_ The woman's words didn't go unheeded by the young A-listers of New York, but before Serena could voice anything she found herself hit by a gust of warm air. The cozy atmosphere of the screening room surrounded her as she entered the largely spaced D-43 screening chamber immediately soothed her nerves as she was hit by the sweet scent of lavender. _

_ "Dr. Neil will be arriving shortly."_

* * *

Was it wrong for Serena to be overtly giddy that she was having a boy? Here she was sitting on her and Chuck's bed, pouring over baby magazines and naming books, picking out paint and furniture, toys and cribs. She'd already selected her color tones: a soothing Spring day green and ocean blue - the nursery could be a haven for the entire family, a place of calming sanctity and peace. She knew that Chuck would have wanted chrome and indigo but she honestly didn't think a baby needed to be exposed to colors so harsh just after he was born! Just look at what happened to Bartholomew Bass - all those intense colors had caused the guy to hit the heavens before he even met his grandkid.

Or was that just an excuse as to why Serena felt so awful at the moment. She knew that her baby would be loved and cared for, given every luxury in the world at the drop of a hat…but that didn't stop the earthly Aphrodite from dwelling on the fact that her baby boy wouldn't know either of his grandparents from either side. Chuck's mother was dead and now so was his father; Serena's was estranged from her father while her mother had decided to disappear off the face of the planet - and there was no way in fucking hell she was going to allow her son to even rub shoulders with Rufus Humphrey.

Not over her dead body.

Biting her lip, Serena shook her head, determined not to think about such negative things. She was done with Lily. Really.

Glancing back down at the journal in front of her, she couldn't help but smile when she saw the names written down. She was torn between three: Micah, Alec, or Henry.

Maybe as Micah he would grow up to be a soft spoken charmer with a kind of Indie vibe, a gentle kind of authority in him that drew everyone closer but a commanding enough presence that made those below him obey.

Those below him? Ugh. She was starting to sound like Chuck.

As Alec, Serena could totally see him becoming a cool, blonde haired politician sort of businessman with a distance around him that bordered on godliness. He would be immaculate, commanding…an overachieving talent scope of something because really, Serena figured, how could you name your kid Alec and not expect something amazing out of him, hm?

And Henry. At that name, the blonde couldn't help but smile. It was a name that wielded authority from everywhere - it was the name of English kings and French princes, of American billionaires and entrepreneurs. Her baby Henry would be brunette, with Chuck's sharp good looks and her own wide, blue eyes. He would be a business prodigy and would wear Italian suits and couture bow ties…he would be like a mini-Chuck, Serena decided.

Henry Bass.

Has a ring to it. She smiled.

Henry Bartholomew Bass. Eh...no.

Henry Micah Bass. Maybe if he suddenly decided to hit the rode and make pottery for a living.

Henry William Bass. No. Her baby was not going to leave his future wife and children. Nope. No.

Henry Laurence Bass. Well...yes. Classy, charming, and just reeking of old money and splendor. Henry Laurence Bass. Serena cradled her stomach protectively although the tiny baby bump wasn't even noticeable, a bright smile graced her beautiful face.

"Momma's here, Henry," she murmured down, not feeling the least bit silly that she was talking to an embryo that probably couldn't hear a word of what she was saying, "and Momma's going to make sure you grow up to avoid being the train wreck I was…and the mess your daddy can be." The blue eyed mother-to-be chuckled slightly at the first descriptions of herself and Chuck to her son; no, they weren't perfect - not at all. But they were never going to pretend to be. They'd never fall for the trap of the UES - faking. Fakers. That's all they were.

And that's why they were all identical, why they were all courtiers and no known nobility.

This is why she and Chuck were queen and king. Because they were real.

* * *

"Bring me over everything on this...surprising event. Now." Charles Bartholomew Bass said to his receptionist in a voice so demanding that she just about sprinted from his office.

So Daniel Humphrey had a ah, abrupt encounter with a Miss Georgina Sparks? And now she was pregnant? Oh dear. He smirked as he pulled out a Cuban cigar from his left hand drawer; this couldn't have been easier. A trial will follow, publicity will explode and Chuck knows that Cabbage Patch will be forced into paying for the witch's child support fee.

Although this wasn't enough to merit a full blown allotment into the mystery that was the van der Woodsen fortune, it was a good start. The files about the transaction between Humphrey Senior and Lily would arrive within a few days (a phone call here, a letter there, a check cut overseas...); by the time anyone dug into Daniel Humphrey's ill gotten assets then…well, a Bass has very expensive lawyers on call. Always. And the judicial side was always willing to extend a helping hand to those who helped the United States economy as much as Chuck Bass did.

* * *

**A/N: Okay, I was going to put more Dan into this but after I did, I realized just how long this chapter would be and decided to cut it in half for you! (Don't worry, it means quicker updates!) LOL, yeah I've resurfaced after a week long hiatus of sorts because I just needed time to gather my thoughts on this chapter. **

**You'll see there's not much Chuck/Serena interaction but that's just because everything's fueling up and I wanted you all to re-meet Jenny Humphrey and re-introduce you all to Georgina Sparks. Bitch is back! And she's here to play...**

**Trouble is going to come a-knockin' real soon which is why I gave you guys so much fluff for about four chapters...hehe...the plan being put in motion is going to come real soon as well as other baby related items! I can't say the next chapter will have more Chuck/Serena interaction but I can promise you that the chapter after that one will! (I think!) **

**Leave me a review! They help me to update faster!**


	7. Chapter 7

MONTH 5 (CONT.)

Serena's back hurt. And so did everything else. She lay sprawled on the Archibald couch, the television was playing an old black and white film of Blair's while the October sun radiated a gentle heat into the penthouse through the large glass windows. Giving a soft groan, the blonde turned onto her side, curling her arm up behind her head as she continued to gaze out into the endless blue sky - it was times like these that she began to contemplate on just about everything.

Why was the sky so blue?

What did time have to do with perception?

Why did people leave and why do people stay?

Why didn't Ilsa stay with Rick?

What was so good about Laszlo anyway?

All these thoughts swirled around her head and she couldn't help but feel an odd, watery clenching in her stomach. The waves of nostalgia for life that she sometimes had began to hit her again and this time, she couldn't drink or party to help keep those feelings and thoughts away.

Serena van der Woodsen was not a simple minded girl - for all her partying and reckless attitude were things that she did with purpose. She participated in those heady, nightclub coded events to forget about just how short life was but just how infinite time is.

Humans only ever lived for so many years but time, and here the blonde closed her eyes, time was infinite. It saddened her to think that someday she wouldn't awaken, she wouldn't feel the full force of what life had to offer - she wouldn't remember the taste of a pumpkin spice latte (or Chuck's kisses), wouldn't feel the warmth of a July sun on her skin (or Chuck's fingertips), and she wouldn't see the beauty of a clear, blue autumn sky (or Chuck).

Before she'd found herself content, she had been upset by the loss of all those things but she'd accepted it because that's what a van der Woodsen does - they accept things and then party as hard as they possibly can to drill that truth into their heads. She had followed the van der Woodsen steps for accepting hard truths: she had understood that one day she was going to die and then she had gone out on a wild binge spree that had ended with her having sex with the boy she'd known since she was five years old. So what? Just another memory on earth to try and keep before she wasted away in a coffin, right?

No.

Because then she'd just had to fall in love with Chuck Bass.

Why him? Serena thought vaguely as she began to slowly drift between the realms of reality and her subconscious, why did she have to fall in love with a cold, callous, womanizing bastard with a tendency to assert ascendancy into everything he did?

_Because he loves you and would do anything to put a smile on your face - even if that means reading pregnancy books because he knows you won't, taking time out of his schedule to call you even though he has a meeting that will leave him bone weary and exhausted. Because he doesn't ever want you to be alone so he tries to come home as early as he possibly can and why he'll always watch those stupid rom-coms you always love while eating delivered pizza from around the corner even though all he wants is classical music in a smoky bar with a glass of scotch. Because for once in his Bass given existence, he's putting someone - someone who he doesn't even have to acknowledge - ahead of his own needs and wants. _

It was with those thoughts that the blue eyed Venus drifted off into dreamland, a soft, content smile upon her pink lips while the violet, despondent questions on life gently lifted themselves from her mind.

_I'll still have to talk to him about Georgina and Jenny and…_

* * *

CAFE SABARSKY. SUNDAY, OCTOBER 4TH. NOON. (TWO DAYS PRIOR).

Carter Baizen was on his third glass of white wine but it was already 11:50 AM. Usually, at this time, he would've uncorked the aged scotch or maybe even shoot down a few whiskeys before his meeting with his new construction firm. Despite what many people say, Carter Baizen wasn't impermeable; sure he had thick skin but he was aware of the disgusted looks people of higher rank threw at him when their gaze somehow fell unto his unkempt, dark, golden brown hair and faded, sky blue eyes.

But he was meeting Serena today and he couldn't afford to be drunk - she was giving him one shot and he sure as hell wasn't going to purposely ruin it by slurring out whatever blurb that decided to pop into his head. Picking up the wine glass, he downed the rest of the smooth alcohol; the thoughts he'd worked so hard to suppress were slowly filtering back into the forefront of his mind as his buzz began to kick in.

_I should've been stronger,_ he mentally spat, even his subconscious voice was bitter with self hatred, _and then maybe I could've still been a man and not the rat I am…_a sardonic chuckle escaped his lips as he squeezed the stem of the wine glass with enough force for the blown sand to snap. _Chuck fucking Bass was right…I am nothing but a _coward_…trying to get my way through life by - _Carter quickly cut off his train of thought, bit down on his tongue again to suppress the anger that was bubbling up inside of him.

In truth, he had no one to be angry at except for himself - all the rage he felt was self inflicted and self directed, no one had forced his hand into anything. Hell, all Jenny even did was give him an offer with her badly done makeup and too stiff hair. She didn't threaten him, hold him at gun point, nor did she even use the "I'm rich and I can…" card.

No.

He had no one to blame except for himself, no one to call out except for his weak inner voice and pathetic conscious, which had decided to disappear the moment he saw the overdone platinum blonde. _Why,_ he cursed himself as he fixed his gaze upon the shiny dark wood of the bar, _why in fucking hell did I marry her? Why would I destroy whatever morality I'd somehow gained in the past few years? _

_ Because you knew you couldn't live like that anymore,_ a soft voice in the back of his mind whispered.

That voice.

It was the only voice of reason Carter had ever possessed but it only seemed to appear when he was at rock bottom - never when he was about to hit rock bottom or if he was teetering. Just when he was lying on the ground, broken and bleeding, did that gentle, warm whispering of honesty and courage come to coo into his ear.

_Guess mother dearest thinks I'm only worthy of her attention when I've fucked myself up so much that I'm practically dead, _the handsome swindler mused darkly as he finally unlatched onto the wine glass.

Pulling out his phone, he saw that the black letters read a bold '12:05 PM'; glancing upward, he scanned the inside bar and dining area for any sign of a golden blonde mane or forever sun kissed skin but he found none. Before the disappointment could manifest itself into an urge to drink however, Carter placed down a wad of cash, walked out of the bar and to the outdoor patio in the front.

It seems that whatever architect designed the Cafe Sabarsky had lived in Paris and deemed it a worthy idea of mimicking the street magic that was in the City of Love. Surrounding the old world cafe was a black garret, carefully crafted and designed that circled around the entire outdoor patio; rose bushes planed on the sides would come peeking into the encircled arena, their curious heads swaying in the breeze. Sabarsky was located right on Fifth Avenue, allowing the blessed residents of the UES who wished to dine outside glimpses of other high end UES elites as they walked about on their daily business. It was a lackadaisical way to pass the time, watching as events unfurled before you; Cafe Sabarsky was a place where one could step outside of the realm of time and into his actual sofa, where they could sit with time and watch the people mill about and go around their daily lives.

It was a beautiful thing.

"Carter? You're late." A sweet - though somewhat scolding - voice broke into his revere as he suddenly spun around to see a sculpted Aphrodite before him, seated by a table close to the peeking roses at the corner of the cafe. A giant sun umbrella covered the area though Serena acted as the sun, glowing in the tenth month's daylight as she raised a brow towards the somewhat stunned man before her. "Seriously, Carter," she sighed as she crossed her arms over the chest of her deep purple military coat in annoyance. "You do realize that Chuck is more than happy to ship you right back to where you came from without hesitation but the only reason he hasn't yet is because I asked? The least you could do for me is show up on time."

Finally, a small smile made its way onto the disgraced Baizen heir's lips; the first true smile that had found itself upon his countenance in years. Only Serena would arrive at a cafe without looking for her host, take a seat at the outside terrance, and expect him to know exactly where she is.

Only Serena.

The smile grew.

"Sorry," he said briefly before easily pulling the chair across from her out, seating himself with ease. "I was inside the bar," he explained though he already knew she could probably smell the alcohol on his breath. "Just needed…"

"To get yourself wasted before you meet me?"

Another chuckle left his lips. "More along the lines of liquid courage."

A frown came upon her perfect brows, "liquid courage? Okay, _nobody_ needs liquid courage when they talk to me - it's usually the other way around. Unless, of course, you harmed Chuck, Blair, or Nate in any shape, way, or form, then I will not hesitate to employ some of my boyfriend's contacts on you - including the ones he has in Uruguay."

An amused bubble of laughter left Carter's throat but also masked the small pocket of panic he felt rise inside of him. The Uruguay coal mines that Chuck had shipped him off to were beyond terrible. Nineteen hour work days in under the boiling hot sun or in a coal mine on the brink of collapse with a slave driver as the 'general manager'? He'd rather marry Jenny Humphrey - well, okay, maybe not marry her again but he'd be more than willing to go on a date or two with her again in order to avoid _that_ fate.

"Listen Serena," he began carefully but found that he couldn't look into her wide blue eyes without feeling the guilt practically throw up inside of him. Quickly shifting his gaze to a lock of her golden blonde hair, he braved on. "I…I need to tell you about…Je-"

"Hello, my name is Miranda Varnes and I will your waitress for this afternoon. May I start you off with a glass of our light-"

"We're talking here," Carter suddenly cut in, his temple was throbbing with agitation and he could literally feel his left brow twitching. For the love of all…if this lady didn't skadaddle in the next five minutes, then the light buzz he had going on was going to evaporate and he was going to be left in a cold sweat, clammy, and unable to speak two words without stuttering. Taking a deep breath, he could feel the appalled look on the waitress's face as well as Serena's disapproving frown.

"I'm sorry, but we're just here to talk for a minute. Could you come back in ten minutes? We'll be ready to order by then," Carter instantly knew by the sweetness of Serena's charm that she was probably offering up one of her golden smiles and apologetic gestures towards him. When he finally felt the presence of the waitress gone, he lifted his head in gratitude only to be met by the miffed look on the van der Woodsen girl's face. "What the hell was that, Carter?" She hissed, annoyed.

The charming charlatan before her merely gave a dismissive shrug, "nothing of importance Serena, but I need you to list-"

"Listen to you?" She cut in annoyed, "look Carter, the only thing that I'm going to be doing right now is leaving. Chuck was right," she added under her breath as she began to stand up. "I should've ha-!" Her sentence was cut off by Carter physically grabbing her shoulders and yanking her back down into her seat. Her blue eyes widened to such comical proportions that had Carter not felt like he was going to faint at the moment, he would've cracked a joke at it at the blonde's expense.

"Please, Serena," be rushed out; he was literally squirming in his seat now, the buzz from the three glasses of wine he had was totally gone. "I-"

"You're insane!" Serena finally said back, her voice laced with irritation, shock, and belied hatred. "Carter, you just-"

"Chuck loves you, doesn't he?" He finally snapped, god damn it - she was going to hear this whether she liked it or not. Carter knew where to play his cards (even though his hand was short) and when he saw how her eyes had narrowed and her form had stilled, he continued. "He loves you so much and I can tell the guy is willing to bend over backwards for you - the fact that he gave up being a playboy? Serena, you got Chuck to settle down. My protege," he added with a weak chuckle.

"I'm not here to discuss childhood memories with you, Carter," the blonde said icily; the tone of her voice was similar to Chuck's that the Baizen absconder knew he was running short on time.

"Right, but you need to hear me out: Chuck would do anything to protect you but I also know you can protect yourself," he said in a rush. His compliment towards her survival skills must have hit home because she sat down then, a curious look in her eyes. "There's something that is of the utmost importance that you have to know-"

Just then, the perky brunette who had appeared moments prior walked back up to their table. "Are you ready to-"

"NO! WE ARE IN NO MEANS READY TO ORDER NOW OR EVER SO LEAVE US BE FOR GOD'S SAKE!" Without even missing a beat, Carter turned back to the bewildered blonde beauty before him and grasped her hand. "I'm married to Jenny Humphrey-"

"You did what?! Cart-"

"-in Europe at least, and I know that she's plotting something, Serena. She's already started to contact her bastard brother, Dan - something's wrong with their father, or their father is doing something wrong, I don't know. All I know is that Rufus Humphrey is in England right now. He left Florida after something about tax aversion or something, I can't remember but I know that dick head brother of hers is in trouble - he got into some deep shit with some important people few years back and now he's on the run. From what I can remember, I know that he was living in Paris before the news came-"

"Carter, who are the people that Dan got into trouble with?" Serena's voice was deceivingly calm, almost placating to a fault. Her entire face was expressionless.

The flush faced man before her could muster no answer as he shook his head, his eyes filled with a panic and guilt that overflowed to his very presence before her. His hands were shaking so much so that Serena had to literally clasp her left hand atop of his shaking one; glancing upward, she could see that whatever guilt he'd carried upon first marrying the girl who's family ruined her had hit him hard. And he'd carried that contrition with him for the last five years - building up inside of his very being with each passing hour until he finally could find no strength to ebb the pain away anymore.

Serena's heart opened to him when she saw that tormented look in his eye; it was the same one Chuck had worn when his father died: hopeless and lost, not knowing how to feel. At that, her expression softened towards the stuttering, shaking man seated in front of her, just ever so slightly.

"Carter...Carter tell me who it is that Dan got into trouble with." She coaxed, her voice was as temperate as the blue sea on a mild day, finally allowing the shaking man to meet her eyes.

"Sparks. Their name was Sparks."

* * *

Daniel Humphrey sat on the brown silk settee in his high rise suite at The Pierre Luxury Hotel, a mask of calm contemplation upon his countenance as he gazed out at the grand, city that never sleeps atop his veranda. The New York skyline was lovely during the night but the Brooklyn boy always preferred looking at it during the day - when he could see every detail, when he knew everything was exactly as he made it out to be.

He smirked.

That was how the 'poor, stupid Humphrey's' were able to knock down the 'strong, beautiful van der Woodsen's' now wasn't it? Oh, of course he felt the twinge of guilt erupt within himself every time he remembered the golden haired goddess to whom he had given his virginity to, but it couldn't really be helped - her beauty defined her and even the devil had to feel some remorse for playing with such a pretty relic.

In the dark haired boy's mind, he likened himself to something akin to a crime lord, a mob boss - someone dangerous and exciting, who lived life on the edge. He didn't play it safe - why should he? He was Daniel _Humphrey_, the man who nearly single handedly swiped away one of the largest fortunes on the Upper East Side! He was practically a living god amongst mortal men! He was Hermes on steroids!

Placing down the tumbler filled with scotch (though he would never admit it to anyone, he still didn't quite have the acquired, blue blood taste for a glass of the amber hued liquor, but it _was_ the drink of the UES, so he supposed he'd have to suffer through), he arose from his seat, his dark eyes sharp as a hawk's. Walking closer to the veranda ledge, he leaned against the cream colored half wall that blocked him and his death, a somewhat mournful thought filtered into his mind. Would he ever be able to see his beloved Madeline again? If he closed his eyes, he could still smell the scent of her perfume: pears and something else warm and rich…a bourbon spiced vanilla? Maybe.

Damn Georgina Sparks to hell. Damn her to hell. Dan gritted his teeth in agitation; the _bitch_. After all he'd done for her! After all he still _continued_ to do for her! How could she…? Did she suddenly develop a conscious? Did she learn she suddenly had three weeks to live and just miraculously decided to right her wrongs? In Dan's mind (and that of any other respectable breathing being) there was no way in hell Georgina Sparks would ever try to do a good deed unless she was either a) forced into it or b) she gained something out of it.

But as far as the Humphrey son could recall, the vindictive brunette had never been forced or coerced to do anything during their time together, that he was sure of. And she sure as hell wouldn't be gaining anything out of it - she was already wealthy so if it wasn't the money then…what was it? What did Georgina Sparks want with him?

She'd left him cryptic notes and even called Jenny; the dark haired vixen had mocked and taunted him until he'd snapped and did what he had to do to her. Rufus had always made sure that Dan grew up with some morals and those included never hitting a woman, but really - when provoked, what was a man to do? Take it? No. In the bastard Dan Humphrey's mind, he had somehow deluded himself into believing that beating a woman was right - and of course some part of him did feel guilty, but hey, didn't the witch need to get her due?

"After all I've done for these people…" Dan muttered under his breath as he looked out at the beautiful autumn landscape of New York's wealthiest, "this is how they repay me. With all this fucking _shit_ that they've thrown at me…fucking hell…" shaking his head, Dan felt a great weight settle into his chest.

Is this what it felt like to be a martyr? Or a great savior?

He supposed it was a duty someone must carry - and he had been chosen to be the bearer of such a great and unholy responsibility - if someone would just get _them_ off his back.

* * *

"Hi, is this Eric van der Woodsen? No? Oh, well could you patch him through?" A pause. "Ah, he's out is he? That's all right - oh, no, no message. Thank you," a female voice said, polite to the very end and dripping in a pleasant refinement that was the pinnacle of loveliness. "Who's calling? Oh, why, just say…an old friend. Thank you."

Click.

The woman at the phone booth gave a sardonic smile before stepping out into the busy streets of Chicago, her purse slung over her shoulder before pulling out her cell phone.

"Bass? It's me. He's here."

Click.

* * *

_Now, all my readers here, who's afraid of the big bad wolf? No one? Oh. Well, who's afraid of King C with an agenda? All of us? Hm. Then it's a good thing we're not on his hit list because it looks like our playboy turned businessman turned boyfriend turned daddy-to-be has something he wants to wash his hands clean of and he's recruited the cast of a lifetime to pull it off. _

_I've always loved a good theater show but I've never been much for the acting. Directing? That's more me, but then again, being a casual observer has always had a finesse and certain charm. _

_Even better? Being a casual observer who knows exactly how the play is going to end (that's me here, readers), and I'll keep you updated on every juicy detail. _

_And oh, seems like Queen B has gone to visit an acquaintance of sorts in the windy city, but shh...don't tell N! He's not supposed to know..._

_xoxo,_

_Gossip Girl _

* * *

**A/N: Writing Carter is so much fun because he is the epitome of a tortured man trying to become a better person while the whole world conspires to keep him down. I also loved, loved, loved writing Jenny in the pervious chapter because she's just so pathetic that you can't help but want to emphasize that point even more!**

**So, I gave you all a longer tidbit on Dan and yeah, he's pretty much turned into a conceited jackass who can't see past the bridge of his nose. Honestly. **

**Anyone want to take a crack at who the anonymous caller is? I won't say but she loves to make a hell of a good entrance LOL**

**Leave me a review! (Box is right there!) **


	8. Chapter 8

MONTH 5 (CONT.)

It's around midnight when he stumbles home, completely and utterly drunk - and half out of his mind with grief. The doorman merely glances down at him with pity in his aged eyes while he gently pulls open the gilded doors, allowing the weary man to pass through, his designer shoes scraping the marble floors and his briefcase long since forgotten in the limousine.

He's exhausted and wished beyond all faithfulness that he would never have to return home to _her_ but he supposes he does feel a modicum of guilt - he never did meet her at that blasted soiree she insisted they host. Was it his fault? She knew of his disgust with all things formal but had gone on with the plans and thrown the damned party; well, she reaped what she sowed - a shallow, vindictive little bitch she was!

_But you're cut from the same cloth as her, Carter, don't you forget it_, his mind murmurs in an almost sympathetic way - as if it knew that he couldn't help who he was.

* * *

Serena hasn't seen too much of Chuck since that charity ball they went to together and she has only a slight inkling of exactly where he's been - he comes home reeking of Blair's perfume and he wears that self satisfied smirk that he always dons whenever he's made Serena lose control.

She slides herself off of their bed and makes her way to the kitchen; she's craving for something strong - like bourbon - but instead, grabs a glass of lemonade because she doesn't want to harm the baby. She's responsible now. Mostly because she's not caring for herself but for something - someone - else growing inside of her.

Her little Henry Laurence.

When she'd told Chuck of the name she'd picked, he'd given her an amused smirk before prodding on,

"Henry Laurence? Do you plan for my son to somehow become a stage actor one day?" His voice full of suppressed mirth as he dark mocha eyes danced with a light that came out but once in a blue moon.

The blonde had stuck out her tongue in childish abandon as they sat sprawled on the couch, the film 'Bringing Up Baby' playing before them, its volume just a low buzz of words.

"It's called being _sophisticated_ Chuck," she'd reprimanded him with a mocking tone, "besides if we named _every _kid we have something boring like Bart or Chuck, we'd end up like the Royal Family in Britain - no creativity."

The Bass tycoon allowed a mock glare to appear upon his countenance before pulling the lithe blonde closer to him, the silkiness of her skin combined with the soft cotton of her pajamas made him feel comforted and relaxed - a deep indulgence of feelings he couldn't afford daily.

"You're getting arrogant there, van der Woodsen." He'd threatened, his voice such a deep, rich baritone that it sent shivers down Serena's spine; the beginnings of a giggle were already bubbling from her lips, like champagne bubbles escaping from its green glass home.

"And how am I arrogant, Bass?"

"No one ever outdoes a Bass in terms of naming," he condescends, the pride in his voice was almost comical and had Serena covering her mouth to suppress the burst of laughter that was ready to stream out. "We," he emphasized, "are masters in the art of such."

"Oh by…this is why I've made it my personal mission to never let your ego get past stratosphere!" The blonde cried in amusement as she gave her boyfriend a soft shove before she heard his laughter rumbling through his chest as he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

"How about just Mount Everest?" He inquired, pulling her atop of him, reveling in the warmth that rolled off of her, much like the sunshine did on a spring day.

A coy smile appeared upon her pink lips, "and how do you propose I do that, Mr. Bass?"

"Let me make love to you," was his only response before he melded his lips onto hers, causing all other thoughts to fly from her mind, leaving her nothing but the feel of his hands upon her body and the gentle breeze of the night air slipping through the half open windows - the only thing to cool their passionate trysts.

It was with those thoughts that Serena felt herself feel somewhat disappointed as she sipped upon her lemonade, allowing her deep blue eyes to flash open as she cradled the glass tumbler in her hand. That little memorial she and Chuck shared had occurred over a week and a half ago; it wasn't even that she minded that they hadn't done anything, it was the fact that the had become elusive to her.

He had begun slipping away at odd hours, his work load increasing every day even though profits for Bass Industries had never been higher. His constant business meetings occurring one right after another, his secretary's refusal to allow her to see him during his lunching hour.

_What the fuck!_ Serena wanted to scream when the petite brunette with the dark green eyes and thick, black rimmed frames had smart mouthed to her that "Mr. Bass is busy, he won't be seeing you today," with that sickly sweet 'sucks for you' smile that made the golden haired girl want to snap her neck in two.

_Fucking bitch_, Serena momentarily thought before setting down the glass with an irritated slap. Where the hell was Chuck, anyways? She momentarily pondered; it wasn't as if she could control what time the man got home but considering he had a girlfriend and baby on the way, the least he could freaking do was arrive at the penthouse at around, oh…a reasonable hour? Some time that wasn't the time that would considered appropriate for hard core partying? Was that too much to ask?

Closing her eyes, Serena knew it was just the stress of the pregnancy combined with Blair's absence and Chuck's mysterious agenda that was causing her blood to boil and her mind to repress thoughts that she didn't even want inside her head in the first place.

Nate had told her that Blair was busy planning some Scottish duchess's charity event or something (Blair now had her own online event planning business) but Serena didn't buy it: first off, Blair _hated_ Scotland and secondly, unless this was going to be a globally recognized event, don't count on Blair Waldorf even considering taking up the job. And if all that was (believed to be) true, why would Blair lie to Nate? Blair _loves_ Nate. She wouldn't lie to him…she just wouldn't, Serena mentally argued with herself.

_Maybe B's just busy with actual events…or maybe Nate just heard her wrong? Or maybe she and Chuck are secretly sleeping together and they just don't want me to know? _

Oh fuck.

* * *

Chuck Bass was always a man who held control in every aspect of his life - from what he ate (or not ate) in the morning to what time Wall Street's stock market would rise and fall. He absolutely loathed it when something would slip through his fingers and unto the granite floor underneath him; he'd always known how to bring things back into orbit once they've floated off. He was a Bass after all, but this, _this_ (and here's where he sighed and closed his eyes) was something no bribery or slick tongue (well, maybe if he played his cards right) could really ever fix.

From the start he had suspected Serena would catch onto his going a-bouts fairly quickly; after all, the simple 'dumb blonde' act she kept up for public appearances often worked in her favor and caused those that held a morbid sense of self to suppose they were superior to her.

Not Chuck, though.

He had easily seen through her cleverly produced facade and had known exactly what he was dealing with the moment he'd set eyes on her: a beautiful, honest, and childlike mortal goddess who couldn't help the mistakes she made because it was those same mistakes that just made her so endearing to those around her. How could he fault her and her persona when they were the very things he found himself being drawn to?

Oh, he knew she could play the little witch when she wanted to - though she rarely did - and he had the inkling that she strayed from clawing out her more Bass-like instincts because both he and Blair were there to do it for her. He'd held onto the hope that she would keep suppressing those emotions - those streaks of paranoia that were so apparent in both the Waldorf girl and his own characters - and simply allow that radiant inner sun in herself to shine, to just remain oblivious for a few days more when he would have everything done and fixed. When they could go back to being them, when _he_ was gone.

But something in the cosmos was displeased with the Bass tycoon and so had decided to gentle begin crumbling down the wall Serena had built between herself and those feelings she'd suppressed. Chuck had immediately sensed something wrong in the air when he'd arrived home two days prior; though the scent of vanilla wafers swirled through the air, and he could hear his blonde minx singing (rather off key) with the radio, something had shifted.

When he'd leaned over to press a kiss to the nape of her neck, she'd stiffened slightly before turning around and giving him a smile - but it wasn't her usual, easy going smile that dazzled those around her. No. It was a soft, pained smile that showed she was clinging onto the very last of her control - and seeing her smile like that, seeing her smile like he did when the bitter agony of the world tore him apart, seeing her smile like Blair did when things became too much…it shattered the icy walls around his heart and for once, Chuck Bass cared completely and wholly about someone other than himself.

"S, what's wrong?" He murmured, cupping her soft, peachy skin with both of his hands, tiling her face up so he could meet the blue of her eyes.

Instead, however, she struggled to veer away from him but his grip was strong and Serena was slightly uncoordinated at the moment, her hands still sticky with honey and vanilla.

"I…" she trailed off, sliding her eyes from his own and looking at the wall behind him. "Nothing," she sighed, "I'm just…surprised you came home early, that's all." It was a half truth.

And he spotted it immediately.

A frown appeared upon his face.

"You can't lie to me S, and you know it."

"Well I've never needed to lie to someone up until this point, have I?" She spat back bitterly before taking a sharp intake of breath - _damn_, she'd cursed. She'd blown it.

Chuck's jaw tightened and his features became flint like; dropping his hands from her cheek as if they had burned him, he took a small step back as he looked at her. She was so frail…so much like the delicate yellow rose blossoms he often bought her…he couldn't hurt her, he didn't want to hurt her.

"What are you talking about, Serena?" He demanded (and now, as he sits in his office at Bass Industries, he wishes beyond yonder that he could've just admitted to his faults and pleaded for her forgiveness). "You're acting like a child."

Immediately, he knows that was the wrong thing to say because the ocean blue of her eyes flash into the stormy cerulean of a tidal wave, and her hands ball themselves into fists.

"I'm acting like a child?" She asked, voice laced with suppressed anger and…hurt? "Since when is wondering where you are acting like a child, Chuck? Or am I just supposed to let you remember me when it's convenient for you and sit back like the good little girl I am when you decide to forget me?"

The unmistakable glint of irritation appeared in the dark haired man's eye and his face lost all hints of tenderness; the coldness that so marked the Bass family came creeping up in full force, and Serena found herself slightly intimated, though she'd sooner drink bleach than admit that to Chuck.

"Is this what you've been getting yourself sick over, Serena?" He asks, his voice low and dangerous and still silky smooth at the same time. She sees the beginning of a mocking smirk appear on his face and her own eyes narrow. "Because if it is then I have to say it's pathetic - you know full well of what my position is. And the things that I not only now have to do for Bass Industries, but for you as well."

"Me?" She hisses, one hand unconsciously cradling her stomach, "you think I'm complaining that you don't spend enough time with me? Is that it, Bass?"

He lets a sardonic and callous smirk appear in full force as he gives a glance at her shaking form; he can't help it - he's a Bass through and through and these emotions that are running wild in him are like a stampede of horses. He doesn't know how to express them and he's afraid to bottle them up, lest they implode within his own soul.

He's resorted back to being the icy jackass that he'd been in high school (but he unconsciously makes sure never to allow the same coldness that he had towards Blair ever leak out towards Serena).

Giving a carless nod, Chuck makes his way towards the liquor cabinet while he hears Serena tailing him. "Isn't it?" He inquires, grasping a gilded glass tumbler and pouring himself a generous helping of scotch. "It's always the same with you girls, isn't it? When we don't report on time for whatever it is we're supposed to do, we suffer your wrath?" He bites out coldly as he takes a deep sip, turning to face an incredulous Serena. "Don't you understand?" He tries, keeping his voice steady. "I'm doing all this _for you_."

But he's just a fraction too late - because Serena's mind has gone into overdrive and all she can think about is his cold eyes, the faint scent of Blair's perfume, the crude way he addresses her…him calling their child a…

"You haven't done near enough, Bass."

A low, cruel chuckle fills the air as Chuck smiles nastily down at Serena - he's so weary now. The Humphrey brat, Blair's own secrecy, that _bitch _he's resorted to calling on for aid…he can't deal with the blonde beauty before him as well.

"I haven't done enough for you?" He asks, and a winter chill runs down her spine. Something has shifted. "I've taken you in, given you support, allowed you to run around doing whatever it is you want without so much as uttering a single _word_ against you, van der Woodsen. I've taken what you've said about your pregnancy in stride even though," his eyes flicker down at her flat stomach, "you don't even have a modicum of proof for it. I've bent myself over backwards for you and _my_," he sneers, "child. Don't think I've forgotten your past dalliances with those random men at the expense of my credit card. I know what you've done Serena, and I've turned a blind eye to it…unless you give me reason to _reexamine_ everything."

Her face pales - not from fear, but from pure anger, hurt, and utter disappointment.

"Is that what you really think of me, Chuck?" She says, her voice soft but controlled with such dignity that Chuck quickly realizes that he's overstepped his boundaries. "You think of me as some kind of gold digging whore whose lied to you about the paternity of our child?" Her expression becomes one of stunned and bitter amusement, her head shaking slightly. "I…"

"Serena-"

"I'm such a god damn _fool_. I honestly expected you to…I thought you…" she can't bring herself to finish the sentence because she feels her throat constricting but she bites down on her lower lip - hard.

She won't cry in front of the bastard, she won't.

Chuck wants to punch himself because it's not Humphrey or anyone else that marks the reason to Serena's strangled voice and misty eyes - it's not because of Brooklyn that she's wounded from bullets made of icy words and crude behavior.

It's him.

_I've hurt her_. He realizes, blinking. _I've…_hurt _her_.

And he suddenly thinks that all those things his father, Blair, anyone and everyone he's ever met, telling him that he's Chuck Bass and he everything he touches breaks…are true.

He's broken Serena van der Woodsen. The golden girl who _can't_ be broken.

"Serena, listen to me," he rushes, carelessly placing his scotch down on the mahogany side table before him, reaching down to grasp her waist.

She pulls away from him like he's poison, her eyes gleaming with distrust and hurt.

Oh fuck.

You lose Serena van der Woodsen's trust, Chuck bites down on his lip, and it's like going through hell and back trying to win it over again.

"Serena-"

"Just leave me alone, Chuck. I'll try not be too much of _hinderance_," she hisses the word out, "to you or anyone else for that matter."

She rushes out from the sitting room and disappears down a hallway. All the while, Chuck's frozen in place.

What has he done?

He blinks.

Sitting down at his office desk now, Chuck asks himself the same question - _what has he done?_

* * *

The former Brooklyn native (he considers himself washed free of his rather less than stellar past) peers down at the list of addresses that have all been inhabited by one Georgina Sparks. His finger lazily grazes over the first few, eyes not liking what he saw, until he comes across a recent one (being wealthy did enable Dan to do certain ludicrous things…such as hiring a private eye to tail one Miss Sparks): 15 Halloway Road, Trenton, New Jersey.

He smirks.

_Gotcha_.

* * *

**A/N: I'm baaackkk! Updating 'Child of Bass' has been on my number one priority list and I just got hit with inspiration a few days ago so...here you go!**

**To those of you who might say that Chuck was really a BASStard, I just want to tell you all that this was the way he was with Blair sometimes, and this was basically how he was portrayed throughout all of Season 1 and most of Season 2. He loves Serena, he does, and he's put her first (most of the time) but he's still Chuck, and he'll always consider what he thinks is best as RIGHT (even if it isn't). He doesn't want Serena to know about Dan or his plans or anything and he'll keep it that way - even if it means breaking her heart. **

**He's doing it because he loves her, but also for some selfish reasons as well.**

**They're going to be in for a bit of a bumpy ride (quote Margo Channing)...and next chapter we'll see Blair and Nate, Jenny, and also Miss Georgina Sparks. **

**REVIEW, s'il vous plait! **


	9. Chapter 9

MONTH 6

"Come on, Bass, pick up…pick up…pi-what the hell?" A furious Blair Waldorf screeched into the mouthpiece of her receiver as she yanked the phone away from her ear, glaring at the black lacquered antique with irritation. "Voicemail? Again? Where the hell are you, Bass?" Slamming the phone back down, the brunette queen bee marched off towards the living room, not caring if her high heels were scraping at the hand polished wooden floor.

_That fucking ass! _Blair seethed inwardly, _leaving me with all the dirty work while he goes and does whatever the fuck he wants…ugh, it's like we're dating all over again that fucking rotten - _

"Blair?"

The brunette froze, her foot dangling just above the last wooden step that led into the sunken in living room. Her hands balled into fists when she heard Nate call her name again, and winced when she felt him wrap an arm around her tense form.

"There you are, B," he said, his voice filled with relief - something which caused Blair to only flinch in guilt. "I've been looking everywhere for you…how was time with your mom?"

"Oh," Blair managed to choke out, "nothing special really. We did a little shopping, she complained about the weather, told me about how awful it was that Isabel was pregnant again…nothing too important, Nate."

She knew she sounded exasperated but with everything weighing down on her, she couldn't conceal her facade as perfectly as she should have. Turning around so that the two were face to face, Blair saw that Nate's usually sparkling green eyes were dimmed with distance and…distrust? What poison did Chuck feed him now?

Raising a hand, Blair brushed back a lock of Nate's golden brown hair and gave a small smile, her palm of her other hand resting against his chest. "What's wrong, Nate?"

At those words, the golden boy of New York heaved a sigh, closing his eyes momentarily before looking at Blair again - his eyes piercing. An accusation was held within them, a look of hope mingled with fear…Blair knew that look. She'd worn it on her own face countless of times during the nights when Chuck would stumble back home drunk, his coat smelling like some other girl's perfume. His slurred excuses and callous words only edging the glass shards deeper and deeper into Blair's heart.

Nate knew.

Oh fuck.

"Nate-"

"Tell me, Blair," he said, his voice hard and his sea glass orbs as furious as a stormy ocean, "not the lies…tell me the _truth_."

_Fucking Gossip Girl…_

* * *

Serena is sitting in her room today - not _their_ room, she's sitting in _her_ room - reading a magazine, sprawled atop the white and coffee colored duvet. It's the room that she'd moved out of a year ago, when she and Chuck because more than just van der Woodsen and Bass to each other…it was when they became Serena and Chuck, Chuck and Serena.

She thinks she's got a good enough eye to know those who care about her and those who don't - really, she does. She thinks she can take care of herself because she's been born and raised to learn how to, except the thing with Serena is, you can try and teach her things until the end of time rolls by. She won't learn if she doesn't want to.

And for the past twenty four years of her life, she's never needed to learn how to survive - because she's always had people fight off the demons for her.

Blair.

Nate.

Lily.

Every man that she's ever come into contact with…hell, even _Carter_ fought with everything he had to save her, to protect her. To allow her to keep shining, uninterrupted by the gargoyles that creep around the streets, ready to smash your dreams into smithereens if they so much as catch a whiff of you.

Well, nobody fought for her this time. And Serena knows it too.

For all the love she had for Chuck, was he just too blinded to see that she was trying to show him that she cared? She wasn't trying to make him feel suffocated - no, not even close - she was trying to make sure he was alright. She was trying to make sure he didn't go back to being Chuck Bass, playboy of Manhattan…she was trying to make sure he was still her Chuck.

And oh, how that backfired.

_"I know what you've done Serena, and I've turned a blind eye to it…unless you give me reason to _reexamine_ everything." _

Were those the same lips who'd uttered tender words of love and comfort to her ear? The lips who had playfully nipped at her neck and shoulders, who had kissed her stomach with reverence…was that her Chuck? The cold, cruel man who had openly mocked her, who had beaten down what little hope she had left in her heart…was that her Chuck?

Serena's not stupid, she knows that Chuck's been busy with the company and the hotel, the club, the finances, the stockbrokers, the board…she knows he's neck deep in paperwork, trying to live up to his father's reputation. Trying to make his own reputation, his own name. A name that didn't pepper itself with smoke and liquor.

But Serena also knows that Chuck is hiding something from her, she may be naive and overly hopeful in some cases but she's not totally unaware of how the human psyche functions. After all, she _has_ been friends with Blair Waldorf since before she could talk. So she knows about the secret phone calls, the hush-hush under the table dealings…she knows that Chuck's been trying to hide the fact that Jenny Humphrey's in town which directly correlates to the matter that _Dan_ Humphrey may be in town.

See.

Serena's not stupid. She knows when something is going on, even a blonde like her has that sixth sense of sorts. There's something in her head that's urging her to conduct a little investigation on what Carter said, if his words are to be believed…but at the same time, Serena just wants to give in. She just wants to lie in bed and hope that some savior will come rushing in…she wants a golden prince to sweep her away, and take care of herself and her baby.

That's how things have always worked for her.

But she's been lying in that bed for a week already and Chuck hasn't even stepped foot into the bedroom…hell, Serena doesn't think Chuck has stepped foot in the _penthouse_.

Giving a deep sigh, Serena throws the magazine into a corner and jumps off the bed. The room suddenly spins and becomes off center and Serena knows it's because she hasn't so much as stepped off of the high rise mattresses but within seconds, her sight is clear and Serena is marching up to her closet.

She'll be damned if she lets Chuck Bass win - no. She may be in love with the bastard but she's certainly not going to let him think that he's actually _won_, hell no.

She's Serena van der Woodsen and she can survive _anything. _Sure she may have always had a little help here and there, but that's just the way she operated. Everybody had their strengths - for Blair it was her words, for Chuck it was his connections, and for Serena it was the endless amount of love and devotion she received from others.

Who was she to refuse the tools that she'd been given?

"Stop number one," Serena muttered, pulling out a brown leather trench coat (that was now slightly tighter around her stomach since she was _finally_ showing), "Carter Baizen's penthouse."

Pulling out the brown trench along with a slinky, long sleeved black minidress and black lace leggings, Serena also hunted down a pair of sky high jewel toned booties. Throwing on her outfit with the finesse of an actress before the first act, she spritzed on perfume, ran a brush through her hair, carefully applied eyeliner and mascara, slipped on a necklace, a few bracelets, and a few of her priceless Cartier rings. She found the rosy toned Chanel lipstick that she'd swiped from Blair a few weeks ago along with the earrings that _someone _had given her.

Taking a step back, Serena felt a surge of rejuvenation when she saw her reflection - she felt like conquering today. Wrapping a thick scarf around her neck and finding some charcoal gray gloves, Serena bounced towards her door, her face splayed into a wide smile.

Yanking open the handle, Serena was barely a foot out of the room before she saw one Chuck Bass standing right before her, a bouquet of yellow roses in his hand and dark circles under his eyes.

"Serena," he breathed in relief.

* * *

"No, no, _no_!" Jenny Humphrey-Baizen cried as she threw a few more items out of her closet, a platform hell just barely missing Claudia's head. Whipping around, Jenny saw the Irish maid's face was neutral and that somehow only fueled her ire. "What did I tell you, Claudia? Did you bring back my dress from Barney's? No, you didn't did you?" The cherub faced blonde cut in icily, "you were too lazy and stupid doing whatever it is you usually do to complete a task as simple as the one I gave you!"

"Mrs. Baizen-"

"No, you don't get to call me that." Jenny sniffed, "it's _Madame_, do you understand?"

Claudia sighed and dutifully nodded her head, her arms already halfway to high heaven with the scraps of cloth that Jenny had tossed out of her closet.

"I just can't believe…who would have the _gall_ to take my clothes? Especially my pre-ordered fall gown! I…do you know how wonderful that color looked on me? Really, as if I…" the brunette's voice became muffled by the closet as she began to dig through the wardrobe again, trying to look for a gown that was of the same muted autumn tones as the one she had ordered from Barney's.

Claudia didn't know what else to do other than stand there. Despite the fact that Jenny Humphrey rarely spoke to her, when the Mrs. Baizen suddenly did decide to acknowledge her maid, she uttered things about things that a maid was _never_ supposed to hear from her employer.

_Good grief, lass, give it a rest, would you? The color of a muted autumn doesn't look good on you anymore than a faye pink would look good on an Irish rose._

Shifting her weight from one foot to the next, Claudia felt an burst of euphoria when she heard the doorbell ring.

"What was that?" Jenny demanded, her voice still muffled by the thick walls of her closet.

"Oh, nothing Mrs. B-ah, Madame. I'll just be getting the door, now." As fast as her feet could possibly move, Claudia quickly placed down the bundle of clothes atop Jenny's bed before scurrying out of the goldmine bedroom.

She managed to reach the doorway just as the second ring came through; whipping open the heavy brown doors, Claudia found herself face to face with a heavily pregnant brunette wearing quite a bit of dark eye makeup.

"Yes?" Claudia inquired politely, the woman seemed to extrude a sense of regal authority that Claudia knew could have only been bred from the Upper East Side. _Unlike my own employer_, she thought bitterly before offering a smile to the rosy cheeked girl before her.

The brunette shot Claudia a rather calculating - but warm - smile. "Yes, hello, I was wondering if a Mr. Carter Baizen was at home right now?" Her voice was sweet and inquisitive but also tinged with an icy undercurrent that Claudia was sure not to miss - a decade and a half of serving the elite had taught her that.

Moving to open the door a bit further, the Irish redhead saw a bundle of Louis Vuitton luggage behind her and shook her head apologetically. "I'm terribly sorry, Miss, but Mr. Baizen is still at work right now. Can I get your name, Miss?"

"Hm? Oh, yes, well…just tell him that an old friend of sorts came by for a visit. And, give this to him, will you?" Pulling a thick manilla folder from her dark brown leather handbag, the brunette handed it over to Claudia with another smile. "I'll be staying at The Mandarin for the next few days so tell him to stop by whenever he feels is…_convenient_." The last word that was uttered caused chills to run up Claudia's spine, a weak smile forced its way to the plump Irish maid's face.

"I'll be sure to do that, Miss. You have a nice day now, Miss."

"Oh, yes, thank you."

Just as Claudia was ready to close the door, one red faced Jenny Humphrey came tumbling out of the corridor, her brown eyes flashing with irritation.

"Claudia, do you know what I've just found? My mint green gown was _crumpled_ in the very _back _of my closet and I…I…Georgina Sparks?" Jenny's eyes widened and her face blanched as she looked at the brunette standing outside the door.

The pale faced brunette before her merely sneered, an elegant frown appearing on her face. "So this is the whore that Carter ran off with? My, my…the gossips are kind to you, Brooklyn, you're more hideous in person than they say you are."

* * *

"What do you mean she's _gone_?" Dan Humphrey asked, his voice pitched with suppressed anger and spittle found themselves flying across he polished marble foyer.

The estate agent before him merely raised a cool brow. "I mean, Mr. Humphrey, that Miss Sparks is _gone_. She up and left just last night, saying that she needed to visit an old friend."

"Well then," Dan said, his voice mocking and bordering on psychotic, "would you care to tell me who this _friend_ is, hm? I've just flown here on the red eye and I'll have you know that I am not the kind of man who takes kindly to the word 'no' so-"

"Then I'm sorry to say Mr. Humphrey, that 'no' is the only answer you'll be getting today. I have a strict policy to never reveal my clients location - that's a breech of privacy and privacy is something that all my clients possess." The agent retorted sharply, glancing down at his Rolex. "Now, if you'll excuse me _Mr._ Humphrey, I have an open house to be getting to."

Without so much as another word, the Armani suited agent turned on his heel, making his way to the Ferrari parked nearby.

"What do you mean she's _gone_?!" Dan Humphrey screeched behind him, "she can't be GONE! She's - the _bitch_ is evil! I need to...she's the fucking mother of my _baby_! I need to know this information!"

"Mr. Humphrey, I bid you good day!" The agent called, not even bothering to turn around as the Brooklyn boy's jaw dropped down to the floor, his mind going into overdrive.

_Where the fuck did the bitch go, _now_?_

* * *

_Hey there UES, _

_I've been quiet for a little while now but that doesn't mean that New York has been...from what I've heard, we've got a little G and S reunion coming forth! But look out S, G isn't really here for the sights and sounds...she's here for a little dish served cold. _

_And it seems like the honeymoon phase is falling apart for B and N...poor B, just can't seem to keep a relationship working for more than a few months, can she? Maybe you should take some relationship advice from J - she's kept her suitor by the cuff since their wedding! _

_And congrats to S - she's finally showing! _

_XOXO,_

_Gossip Girl_

* * *

**Review, please.**


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